


In Black and White

by Delphne



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Adult Content, BAMF Takaba Akihito, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, First Meeting, Journalist Akihito, M/M, Slow Build, Yaoi, not edgy or dark just realistic, smut and fluff will come later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 79,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24015469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphne/pseuds/Delphne
Summary: "Things aren’t as black and white as they are in a photograph, Akihito."A tip-off leads hardworking freelance photographer Takaba Akihito into the depths of Toyko's dangerous and mysterious criminal world. And not everything, or everyone...are as they appear.
Relationships: Asami Ryuichi/Takaba Akihito
Comments: 293
Kudos: 587





	1. Part One, Ch.1: As They Appear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! ❤️
> 
> This is kinda a slow starting one, but I hope you'll stick around for the ride! 
> 
> This chapter is kinda a preview, an introduction to our heroine.

_“Things aren’t as black and white as they are in a photograph, Akihito._ ”

I could almost hear that tone of voice that Dad always used when he lectured. Although I never took him too seriously. Those words always struck me as sanctimonious. His way of playfully chastising me for my career choices.

Photography isn’t what it once was. It's changed a lot since dad’s time. You can’t _just_ be a Photographer anymore, not if you want to stay afloat. These days all photographers are freelancers. Relying on short-term contracts, whatever you could get your hands on. Photoshoots, wedding ceremonies, professional headshots, and sometimes you could squeeze a job or two at the Weekly Headline. 

Everyone needs high-quality photos. Images are crucial in our visual-driven world. My vibrant schedule was proof enough of that. 

But nobody wanted _photographers_ —just someone you could hire to point and shoot. Your own distinctive flair or style was not a necessary part of your job anymore. The meaning and value of your labor were always dwindling. 

These days, the job was becoming rather mundane. Just day in and day out of the same thing. It was starting to wear thin. My work for the Weekly Headline was becoming the only refuge from the monotonous routine of meaningless freelance contracts.

Now, according to Dad, he was the _real_ photographer. And I was only playing at it. He was talented, I’ll give him that. He always had a good eye. 

Dad may have been a photographer, but he only saw value in the aesthetic. In appearances. In the artistry of a photo. In what lay on the surface, somehow, he could be satisfied with just that. 

Sure. Things aren't always as they appear. But what did Dad know about that?

You’ll never get past the glossy veneer if you don’t pull back the layers. What did he know about digging beyond the surface for the truth?

What I see in my viewfinder is the only truth I need. 

Seeing is believing, right? Sight is the affirmation of truth, and the camera is the best way to capture that. The truth is right there for everyone to see. 

A photo can only be impartial. A camera never lies.

In this world, some somethings are just as clear as night and day? Right and wrong? Black and white? Wasn't my job to expose the truth. To shift through the fiction and uncover the facts.

 _Nothing_ would change that. Not even a lecture from the Old Man.

* * *

_Although it’s not as if he can lecture me anymore._

Akihito shifted at the sudden memories of his father. Sure they often butted heads, but at the end of the day, they were still family. It had been a little under two years since he had passed. It felt like the entire town had shown up to pay their respects to the artist.

 _It was hard on Mom. But you can never keep a good Takaba down for long_. Akihito thought as he tried to push away the topic of his father from his mind. _Plus, Mom was more than okay now. Her work always kept her busy. She probably has a better social life than I do._ The young man almost snorted at the prospect.

Work had been particularly non-stop these last few weeks. His own self-deprecating thoughts about his social life were probably not far from the truth. When was the last time he had seen Takato or Kou for a drink? He had only half ignored their most recent text messages, calling him out for a get-together.

At this rate, however, it seemed he would never get a day off. He hadn’t always been such a night owl. But these days, the best work was only happening after dusk.

That thought was particularly ironic given where Akihito was perched now, camera at the ready. Fortunately, it wasn’t a cold evening. There was only a light breeze coming through. Akihito was grateful for it after the sweat he had built up to get up here.

The thing about being a photographer was that getting to a good vantage point was key. The right place improved the quality of your photo and could even bolster your investigation. It was a delicate balance. But Akihito was somewhat of an expert at reaching vantage points.

Somehow, climbing buildings in a few leaps and bonds had become part of his job description. The roofs of Tokyo were becoming like a 2nd home to our photographer. 

There was always something of a euphoria about climbing to the perfect location to pursue a target. It made his heart skip a beat, but in the best way imaginable. The slight fear of being detected. The risky climb to an ideal position so that you’d be close enough to listen in. The panorama view, you’d take in from the height. The wind in your hair and the catch of your breath. 

The thrill of a chase. It never ceased to tickle the sense. 

He had climbed a rusty old fire escape to reach this landing. It somehow always ran true that precarious places made for the best shot. His little position he had found proved to be the perfect place to snap some quick photos from a safe distance.

 _Now do something shady for me!_ Akihito thought. Sometimes the photographer liked to pretend his targets were, in fact, posing for him.

Funny enough, as if on cue, the two men exchanged briefcases and shook hands. 

HA! The photographer practically snickered, and a wide smirk curled his mouth.

“Jackpot!” He sneered under his breath, and he furiously clicked away at his camera.

On the other side of the street, just in the range of Akihito’s finder, were two men in the midst of a delicate conversation.

Although, the details of that exact conversation were not entirely known to our photographer. He could guess some of the particulars, though. It was the typical kind of sordidness that he covered for the Weekly Headline.

 _Detective Yamazaki delivering once again_. The photographer thought as he snapped some more shots.

Another case involving an unscrupulous Diet member receiving a payoff. Diet member Sonda, a former secretary to the Minister of Foreign Affairs, a career politician, and all-around sleaze. He had really let himself slip this time around. 

Sonda was more than careless. He was practically begging for his affairs to be dredged up by a certain nosy freelance photographer. 

You couldn’t write a better corruption case than this. It was so unambiguously corrupt, they weren’t even pretending, at this rate. 

When the Detective called to give Akihito a head’s up about a potential corruption case, he did his due diligence before arriving, some light research into Sonda’s background. This meeting was not on Sonda’s “official schedule.” But they rarely everwhere. The meeting was happening in the most suspect of places- a warehouse office room. 

Do people even care about getting caught these days? I mean.. how suspicious is that? 

The photos showed very clearly an exchange taking place. Money passing hands and documents being signed. It was cut and dry. Or at least, in Akihito’s mind, it should have been. 

Would it lead to actual consequences- something concrete? 

His photos, as incriminating as they may have looked, were usually never enough to convict. Although maybe in the court of public opinion, there’d be some effect. But even that was a rarity these days.

Akihito stuck around until he was sure he got everything he needed. These photos would suffice for tonight. He made his descent down the fire escape, camera bag in tow. 

He dashed to the nearest subway stop to head home. He was eager to get back and see how the photos turned out. He wanted to send them off to the Weekly Headline quickly.

His editor would then decide the fate of the case. Then he'd designate which journalist would be assigned to write up the report on it. But that was tomorrow's concern. 

Although he hoped the case would be assigned to his friend Kino Nanami, an up-and-coming writer for the Weekly Headline. Although her schedule was always more hectic, she somehow always found the time to aid Akihito. 

Akihito shared a byline with her, and they worked together on stories often. The two were becoming somewhat of a dynamic duo at the Weekly Headline. She'd write the story and do most of the grunt work, while he'd provided the photos and the essential details of an investigation. But whether or not she would get assigned to this case was entirely up to his editor.

When he got to his apartment, he briefly looked at the batch on his computer. They didn’t need to be heavily edited or altered, just cleaned up a bit. Which took him a bit longer than he thought it would. He had to admit, though, they looked pretty good. And with the Detective's stamp of approval, they were sure to get published.

It would also mean a nice paycheck for our photographer. He sent them off to his editor, and for good measure, sent the batch of photos to the Detective as well. 

Detective Yamazaki was an old friend from Akihito’s teenage years. 

Yamazaki always tried to keep Akihito on the straight and narrow- although the photographer rarely ever listened anyway. Yami was an older man now, on the fast track to becoming a senior officer at the police force.

He remained a good friend, and when the photographer started his job at the Weekly Headline, the relationship with a police officer proved to be advantageous. He became a reputable source of information to tap into every now and then. 

The Detective's tip from tonight was a nice distraction. Given the photographer was still hung up over his last case.

You see, Photojournalism regrettably doesn’t always pay the rent on time. It was often the norm for our young blond photographer to be working on multiple cases. Some paid the bills more than others. 

Though, he often found himself short at the end of the month. When strapped for extra cash, the photographer took on odd jobs- anything from manual labor to cat sitting for friends. 

That's how Akihito found himself working at an old-fashion Japanese bar called Bar Ako. He could work when it suited his own hectic schedule, and it provided him with a steady stream of extra income. However, he soon learned that the job came with some unforeseen benefits—ample opportunity to collect information. Needless to say, the job paid our photographers bills in more ways than one. 

Of course, the kind of information that passed their mouths had varying levels of substance. The things people blabbed about, even in the presence of strangers, sometimes had immeasurable value. The particulars were mostly unconfirmed gossip or rumors. Many were just taking the occasion to rail against their employers, but periodically they’d let something slip. 

Akihito had learned long ago that idle gossip could quickly turn into headline-making news if you could connect the right dots. 

Bar Ako was a local favorite, and all kinds of people frequented its doors. To the ordinary office employee, to the rowdy construction workers. And on rare occasions, a small-time yakuza discussing business. 

One night, the story of a lifetime came strutting into Bar Ako. 

Masaki Yamato. He screamed yakuza, with his trademark oily slicked back hair, tacky suit, and brutish appearance. As soon as Akihito had caught sight of the confident man, he knew right away. This was his chance for a _real_ story.

Masaki was a relatively dull target, a mid-level drug dealer from Osaka. The only interesting thing about him was his ties to Tokyo’s own Gotouda crime family. 

Despite his daunting appearance, he was a man of good humor, who had a certain weakness for cheap sake. It only took a few rounds for Masaki to get loose-lipped about his ties to a particular crime family.

Akihito knew deep down that a story like this came only once in a lifetime. It could make his career. But all the details Masaki had given were fuzzy. 

Akihito was playing this one by the book, and fuzzy details weren’t gonna cut it. This wasn’t the first time he had dealt with potentially dangerous information. So he was taking all the necessary precautions while he was building his case. It had taken him ages to fill in the gaps and get specific details. Following up on leads and do basic background checks. He was working hard to get a clearer picture.

Akihito was still trying to unravel the case when suddenly Masaki seemingly went underground.

The information Masaki had drunkenly exposed was about two yakuza groups, The Osaka’s Tanaka Family and Toyko’s own Gotouda’s Family. Both had a long history of clashing with each other. Still, for some reason, they put aside their differences and decided to work together. 

Masaki had been none too pleased to work alongside Gotouda. However, he believed that the two clans had a big shipment incoming. There was some kind of mention of the two groups beating out the _competition_. There was still a lot of holes. But, Masaki had made it seem like there was an impending gang war looming.

Akihito was trying his best to find some tangible evidence to pass the information along to the police. When he told the Detective, he didn’t even seem to be aware of anything of the sort. He only warned Akihito to stay out of any organized crime stuff. 

But, now that Masaki had gone underground, it seemed like all his work for the last week would be for naught. He had nothing concrete, a whole week's worth of stakeouts and tailing seemingly done in vain. With Masaki in the wind, the story was more or less halted. 

The photographer had to find him. It was a matter of pride, to close this case for good. But, it may take weeks for him to resurface. In the meantime, Akihito was making himself busy working on other cases. 

All his work on the Masaki case wasn’t gonna lead to a payday anytime soon. The photographer was practically desperate for a new story. He felt like he had thrown all of his chips into the Masaki case, just to come up empty-handed. But, when the Detective called with news of a potential corruption investigation, he practically jumped out of his seat. 

Akihito settled down on the couch, ready to settle in for the night. The thought of his warm bed was enticing. It felt like ages ago since he had last cooked himself a decent meal. Or since he had, for once, managed to make it back to his apartment before midnight.

Perhaps, he should let himself enjoy a night off the clock- for once. He could deal with everything tomorrow and let his sleepy eyes take over. 

Yet, the distinct ring of his phone took him out of his illusions of an early night in. It was the detective.

“Yes,” Akihito said, answering the phone. 

“Takaba, it's me. I got your pictures.” The Detective spoke cooly. Akihito was surprised that he had gotten to them already. He had just finished sending them about a minute earlier.

“They came out pretty good if I do say so myself..” Akihito teased. He sat back in his seat as he spoke.

“Yes, Yes... Do you know who that other man is? The one he's doing the trade with.” He seemed hurried as he spoke, getting right down to business. 

“Uh, no. I haven’t ID’ed him yet.” The photographer said. It was going to be tomorrow's job.

“I see… good, good. It best you stay out of it anyway.” There was something about the detective's tone that Akihito couldn’t quite place.

“What do you mean?” 

“Nah, Nah. I shouldn’t have said anything. Quit gettin' yourself involved in these scandals! This is a job now for the police.” The Detective chided as he always did. He was hiding something from our photographer, wasn’t he? 

Akihito should have left it at that. Cook his dinner and go to sleep early for once. Yet, he could tell the Detective had information for him. It felt like it could be big. Just what he needed to get over his disappointment over the Masaki case. So he pressed the Detective for more. 

“C’mon, you can’t just leave me hanging like this.” There was a pause on the line. As if the Detective was thinking about what to do next. Akihito could hear him sigh before he spoke. 

“Well… His name is Yoshida. He manages a night club down in Shinjuku. We’ve been lookin’ into this club for a while now. We could never get anything solid, though.” 

“A night club?” Akihito questioned. “Maybe I can help…” he trailed off, hoping the Detective would give him more details.

“PFT. Don’t even bother, kid! It’s not a _normal_ night club. You won't be able to get through the door.”

“Come on. You know it’s my job to be the uninvited guest,” Akihito shot back at him.

He paused. Clearly not amused by Akihito's attempt to make light of the situation. “It’ll be hard getting in,” he said again.

“Just give me a location” This was it, he thought. As if he already knew how life-altering this piece of knowledge would be, and all he had to do was just reach out and take it.

“According to a few sources, this place is a pretty big hot spot for the drug trade.… Are you sure you can handle it?” 

“Yami... Come on- You know I’ve been dying to work on a new case.” Akihito appealed.

It took a moment for him to finally speak as if he was carefully considering the possible fallout of handing over this information.

“It’s called Club Sion.”


	2. Part One, Ch. 2: Inspections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post a little earlier, since i was to excited to introduce Asami. 
> 
> hope you like :D

Their visits were always like clockwork. A call would come in from the offices upstairs. Signally they were a few minutes away. Staff and security alike hurried to their stations in preparation.

On an ordinary night, these _inspections_ were something of a formality. A quick check-up to ensure everything was running like a well-oiled machine.

Yet, the nightly visits had never ceased to put everyone on edge. Usually, the discomfort would only have to be endured for a brief time before regular business could proceed. But tonight wasn’t one of those nights.

Two guards stood in waiting at Club Sion’s back entrance when a familiar unmarked limo pulled up into the dark alleyway. One guard quickly walked over and opened the door to the back, bowing reverently as he did so.

A pair of calfskin oxfords stepped out of the open door. The Italian shoes promptly extinguished a Dunhill cigarette bud, which had fallen on the asphalt as the man exited the limo.

The man stepped out, revealing for a moment his tall stature, broad shoulders, and the impeccably tailored suit he was dressed in.He didn’t wait or stand on ceremony. He briskly passed over the guard, without a second glance, and headed purposely towards the back entrance. The back door was held open for him by the second guard.

Meanwhile, the limo's front door opened, and a man with glasses stepped out and quickly followed in concert behind the first.

As the two strode into the club and around a narrow hallway, people parted to make way. Doing their best to avoid eye contact by bowing meekly and allowing the duo to effortlessly breeze past.

The pair continued inside, undaunted by the low murmurs of people respectfully greeting the two men inside. They made no time for pleasantries.

They turned towards a private elevator in quick fashion. The glasses man flashed a security card on a scanner and pushed a button for the top floor.

A few moments later, a light ding went off, indicating that they had reached their destination. As the doors parted, our tall man stood for a moment at the entrance. His handsome features finally revealed under the light of the elevator.

He looked younger than he actually was, with thick dark hair effortlessly slicked back, a few loose strands falling on his brow.

Asami Ryuichi. The son of a Dragon, as his name so aptly implied. Was an inexplicable creation of both fire and ice.

His striking appearance was undeniably icy and forbidding, yet perfect and unparalleled. He was as if sculpted from the finest of stone. Stone. Being the keyword, which proved to be an eerily fitting analogy for the man. Who it could be said, was far colder than any stone.

There was one exception, though, to his cold facade. The fiery glint of searing golden eyes. At a glance, you'd be immediately drawn to them. As if an unseen force was daring you to hold his gaze. In the back of your mind, you knew you shouldn’t look, but you also couldn’t look away either.

As he stepped out of the elevator, a cluster of people awaited them on the other side, bowing at his presence. Some bowed unnecessarily low, fearing lethal golden eyes, which were surveying the room. Those eyes were rumored to have the mysterious ability to send shivers down the spines of even the toughest of subordinates.

An unusually burly man, with short blond hair, maneuvered forward before anyone could speak. The pair had already stepped out of the elevator and moved slightly to face the large man.

“Asami-sama,” the blond spoke. Bowing in greeting and then carefully passing over a leather portfolio to the younger man. “Here are the reports you asked for. As well as the police report, given to us by Inspector Saito.”

“Anything we don’t already know, Suoh?” The cool baritone voice answered in reply as he opened the portfolio and cast an eye over its contents.

“Nothing new, sir,” Suoh responded.

Asami was now walking forward, his small entourage following closely in step behind him. They were heading down a hallway toward Club Sion's back offices. When they arrived, Asami took a seat on a brown leather armchair, still studying the report in front of him.

It was one that he had more or less read three times already. The facts of the report had remained the same since he had last read it.

Two nights ago, one of his warehouse down in east bay was broken into at exactly 3:42 AM. His men arrived at the scene only 10 minutes later to find the warehouse empty. Two guards were found dead inside. A heavy bulk of his precious cargo was gone, and there was no sign of intruders.

The product could be replaced easily enough. Though, the break-in was costly in more ways than one.A break-in like this, it wasn’t the work of some petty theft. That was obvious enough. It was an organized assault on Asami himself.

To be attacked like this, on his own turf. In his city. 

Blaspheme—a clear upfront.

Something was brewing, and Asami didn’t like to be left in the dark like this. A break-in with no clear sign of who was responsible? A coward's maneuver. What subterfuge? Who’d use such underhanded tactics?

Clearly, someone who couldn’t engage mono e mono. Asami could deal with a head-on confrontation. In fact, he preferred it. But an enemy hiding in the shadows, now that was concerning.

Who had the resources to take on Asami like this? A hidden enemy? A rival gang? Possibly evidence of an inside job - or worse. It spelled trouble.

Asami’s two worlds; his legitimate businesses and his not-so-legitimate businesses. There was a fragile-ness it. A delicate balance, he kept together in perfect order. He was the link between the criminal world and the so-called respectable world.The break-in was threatening to send his perfect balance toppling over.

Club Sion was his signature club. His father's creation. The start of a legitimate and profitable business empire. But Sion, the company, was responsible for countless hotels, nightclubs, and restaurants across the country and even internationally - was entirely Ryuichi making. 

If the break-in was an inside job, as it appeared, nothing was potential off-limits. A decade of work seemed to hang in the balance now. All his business deals, all of his contacts, all of his shipment, all of his trade route he had secured. Hell- even his daily schedule was imperiled. 

Asami sighed and rubbed his temples as he finished reading the report. What a mess it all was. And it honestly only scratched the surface of the insurmountable problem that lay before him.

Kirishima Kei, the bespectacled man that had followed Asami into the club since the beginning, finally broke his silence.

“Asami-sama. Sir. If you would, please allow me to add extra security to your detail.”

Kirishima was a particular man. He had neatly trimmed crew cut hair, the same he had during his military service, as well as his trademark wire-framed glasses, which he was always pushing up to the bridge of his nose.

His attention to detail was his specialty, which made him the perfect secretary, although the job title didn’t quite encompass all that the man did; secretary, chauffeur, guard, and on rare occasions, nurse.

Kirishima knew how his boss disliked being shadowed by too many guards. But in light of an apparent security breach, Kirishima was doing his best to press this particular matter. The secretary looked at Suoh for encouragement, although Suoh had also tried this tactic earlier today, to no avail. 

Asami scoffed at his secretary's words. “I am perfectly capable of defending myself. That's not what worries me. Our focus needs to be on finding who is responsible and what their next move is.” Asami’s jaw slightly clenched as he spoke, the only testament of his frustration.

“The best way to find out who’s behind all of this is to weed out the traitor in our midst.” Asami started again. “We need to narrow down the list of people with knowledge of our warehouses. Who knew we had a shipment that particular night? I want finical records getting pulled, and I also want a team on some of our competitors,” He continued.

“The competition? Do you mean the clans? Do you suspect them to be involved?” Kirishima was the one to speak.

The clans? One could say the clans were business rivals, although they weren’t much competition. In truth, they weren’t rivals at all. Asami had always enjoyed an _amicable_ business relationship with the clans.

Despite their pride, none of them were above making transactions, as long as the profits were fruitful. The clans were always held back by their traditions- by their blood feuds. Asami found it better to let their incessant squabbling continue. The constant fighting amongst themselves had led to perpetual instability amongst their ranks.

“The clans don’t have the kind of resources to strike like this. They wouldn’t dare. But.. that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t move product if it happened to fall in their laps. All I want to know is if they have something brewing.”

There was suddenly a tap at the door. Suoh moved to open it. He spoke in hushed voices with a guard outside. Meanwhile, Kirishima advanced over to the offices mini-bar and prepared his boss a tumbler of his favorite whiskey.

Asami was undoubtedly in need of a stiff drink. His faithful secretary had an uncanny ability to sense his boss's needs. He took a large swig of the whiskey while they waited for whatever news Suoh was bringing. The drink burned slightly in the back of his mouth, just the sting he was looking for.

After a brief moment, Suoh stepped back into the room, a wary expression on the large man's face. “Sir. There seems to be one more thing.” Suoh started, “It's..more bad news, sir.”

 _Great. What now?_ Asami thought, practically rolling his eyes.His frustration was getting the better of him.

“Sir. We just got a tip-off from one of our sources in the media…It looks like the manager of Club Sion has been having his business transactions caught on camera.”

Asami darted his head up to look at Suoh. His eye’s narrowed menacingly.

“Excuse me…” he hissed out.

* * *

_“_ Send him in,” Asami spoke, waving his hand to gesture for Yoshida to be brought in.

A few moments later, a man with salt and pepper hair is escorted into Asami’s office. Yoshida was a slightly older man, a shrewd businessman with years of experience. He had risen in the ranks to become the manager of Club Sion, which made him an important lieutenant in Asami’s organization.

As the manager of Club Sion, he was a prominent face in the overall business. He was quick at making the right kind of connections. He always kept up with the high standards that clients expect of Club Sion, and he always kept them happy.

He was good at his job, tactful, and well mannered. He had his value. However… having his business transactions caught on camera was a major slip up. And there were now many questions about his loyalty that came up because of them.

Yoshida stepped in front of Asami and bowed in greeting, “Asami-sama,” he said.

Asami gave him a quick nod of acknowledgment and gestured for him to sit across from him.

“Yoshida,” Asami spoke in welcome. It was hardly a warm greeting, but he didn’t care for pleasantries. “I have some news I’d like to pass along to you” He cocked his head slightly as he spoke.

Yoshida looked a little nervous as he sat across from Asami. Perhaps he could tell that Asami was in a certain mood, although it could just be the boss's usual coldness.The crime lord was not exactly an easy man to work under. He expected the _best_ from his lieutenants, and he had impossibly high standards. A moment of weakness was inexcusable and heavily penalized. But, it was worse than just that.

The man was impossible to read. He never gave anything away. He’d have the same demeanor as when he was pleased with you as when he was dissatisfied with you. Worse still, he had a way of looking at you like he could see into the depths of your soul.

Asami gave a quick nod to Kirishima, and the secretary passed a file to the manager. His face showed confusion as he opened the file.

“S-sir..whe-where did you get these?” His expression quickly turned into distressed, and he wildly sifted through the photos of himself with Diet member Sonda.

“These pictures were taken earlier this evening by a member of the press, who was following Sonda. We were tipped off about them around 20 minutes ago. Since Sonda's a client, we’re trying to get ahead of it… We’re working on getting it stopped with the publisher. But it seems it may have already gotten sent to the police, which means they’ve probably already ID'ed you. It won't be long until they're sniffing around here pretty soon.” Asami spoke flatly.

Asami had inspected the photos earlier. Oh, how they made him privately seethe…

It wasn’t that Asami was worried over authorities getting involved or of being investigated. He could easily stifle anything like that. The photos didn’t prove anything concrete. Nonetheless, Asami took the pictures very seriously. It was more about appearances than anything else. They made Sonda and Yoshida _look_ very guilt of something illicit. Moreover, the photos were physical evidence that connected Sonda to Club Sion and, therefore, to Asami himself.

He could easily lose business because of something like this. They were a blemish to Asami’s meticulously crafted image. One that he couldn’t let go of lightly.

Yoshida stood up suddenly and spoke. “Asami-sama. I-I don’t know how this could have happened. Sir.I- I had no idea someone could have- could have been recording us.” His nervousness was evident as he spoke. “Sir. tell me what I need to do, t-to make this right.”

Asami, the ever unreadable boss, said. “What was the meeting with Sonda about? Was this one of your side businesses?”

Being a lieutenant and club manager for Asami’s organization came with a certain amount of extra perks. Some independence. The freedom to make deals or do favors if they were presented to you.

To take care of pesky little problems, hush up scandals, and do some dirty work to get rid of _complications_. All in the name of making clients happy. Not everything was expected to go through the boss, especially frivolous matters. You could make your own connections and gain more clientele. Money would pass hands, but you could keep that for yourself.

If a deal were of a high value, you'd call Asami in for assistance. He would take a share of the profits, of course. Yet it was a fair deal. Lieutenants would keep the bulk of the profits, and more clientele always benefited the boss in the long run.

The problem was, you had to be careful not to overstepped your bounds. If you made a deal using Asami's name and operation, but then cut Asami out of the profits. Maybe even attempted to hide it from the boss. Then you were in trouble.

Indeed Sonda was on the payroll, but Asami dealt with those personally. So what was the reason for Sonda and Yoshida to be meeting up, especially outside of Club Sion?

The photos didn't prove anything either way. But it could be viewed as if Yoshida and Sonda were conducting some kind of deal- without Asami. There could have been an innocent explanation. A deal, but something frivolous. Something that Yoshida could handle on his own that would be a waste of time for Asami.

Yoshida was curt when he answered. “Sonda got in contact with me last week. It was just a minor request. We were only meeting up there because Sonda wanted to meet somewhere else.”

“Yoshida. We are _all_ under enough pressure as is.” Asami spoke cooly, only barely touching on the fact that the break-in was leaving everyone on edge. “Embarrassments like these will happen when you waste your time on foolish side businesses. What was Sonda requesting?” Asami asks that last question firmer. Not wanting Yoshida to avoid the question.

Yoshida looked uncertain over Asami’s words. “S-sir. Sonda only contacted me over- over a minor campaign mishap involving some vapid women. His team couldn’t handle the cleanup. I-I swear, Asami-sama, it was nothing. I was only trying to make the client happy." He answered.

Asami looked fairly satisfied with Yoshida’s answer, and he noded. Although you could never tell what he was thinking.

"Sir…these photos. Y-you have enough on your plate as it is…” Yoshida continued, trying to change the topic back to another matter.

“It’s already being handled. The press is involved now and potential the police. I rather not play this to chance. Yoshida,” Asami said firmly. 

“May I ask who took the photos, sir,” Yoshida spoke up. His tone had turned slightly dark.

Asami shifted in his seat. He looked down at the leather portfolio on the desk in front of him. The answer to Yoshida’s question was there.

It was a thin file, hurriedly thrown together after the news of the photos came to light. He had just given the order for more substantial information to be sent over. A full background check would take a few hours to compile together. He had just been reading its contents, not too long ago.

Admittedly, Asami let his imagination run rampant about who this _photographer_ was. He imagined a middle-aged greaseball, slightly balding and vulgar. A member of the paparazzi, looking for a quick buck. One who could probably be easily convinced with some pocket change to stay out of his business.

But, the photographer was…not at all what Asami expected. In fact, he was quite the opposite of what Asami had imagined.

Takaba Akihito. A young and promising freelance photographer. Born May 5th. 24 years of age. About 175 cm. Unstable yearly earnings. Place of birth: Kanagawa district. Residency: Tokyo. Occupation: Freelance Photographer with contracts for the Weekly Headline and a bunch of other studios.

There were a few photos in the file, pictures of a clear-faced youth smiling into a camera. When Asami had first seen the photos of the photographer, he was struck by the youthful face. A photographer? He looked like he might be better suited to being behind the camera than anything else.

He had a rather scruffy exterior. A mop of unruly color-treated hair and his choice of clothing was somewhat juvenile.Despite his seemingly unkempt exterior, it was hard to deny that he was an attractive young man. If he cleaned up his appearance a bit, he could’ve easily been mistaken for a model or something of that variety.

Although he didn’t look it, the young man was actually a five-time juvenile delinquent. The file described minor charges and small-time offense; Fights with thugs, petty theft, breaking and entering— sounded like some teenage rebellion.

A one-time hooligan turned part-time gutsy journalist.

There was some danger, though, to what the file described. A young and ambitious photojournalist, eager for a big story might be resistant to a bribe. However, there were other ways to _persuade_ a man into silence. 

Asami opened the portfolio on his desk. The photo of the young blond toting a toothy grin was at the top of the file. Asami let his eyes catch a quick glimpse of the picture before he passed the file over to Yoshida.

“Takaba Akihito. A street-rat. I am sure he can be _convinced_ to back off.” Asami said tepidly.

Yoshida briefly looked over the file. “Sir,” He began again. “There no reason you need to- to involve yourself in such trivial matters. I-I appreciate you stepping in and halting it with the publishers. But, I-I can assure you I can handle this-this brat. Please. I wish to clean up my own messes, Asami-sama. Let me deal with.. this- This Takaba boy.”

Asami sat back in his chair and looked away from Yoshida. He sighed and exhaled slowly.

“Fine. Yoshida. Deal with it.”

* * *

The photographer pinched his eyes in thought.

 _Club Sion. Hm- Club Sion. Have I heard that before?_ As if saying the name over again might jog his memory.

He quickly typed the name into a search engine on his nearby computer.

He looked down at the results and quickly scrolled through. The club's website came up first. A link to an event schedule. An address pinpointed on a tiny map. There was nothing in recent news about it. Nothing that stood out.

He looked blankly at his computer, only half-processing the images and information in front of him. He probed the club's website, some older press releases, and a gallery of images. After the quick search, “high-class nightclub” seemed an understatement.

The Detective was right. It definitely wasn’t a place that anyone could just walk into. It was a members-only establishment. The yearly membership fees were probably more than what Akihito paid in rent.

 _How boujee is this place? How come I’ve never heard of it before?_ Akihito scuffed.

From the outside, Club Sion looked almost unassuming. Like an oversized brownstone in downtown Shinjuku.

But the inside was something else entirely. Pictures of its interior showed a contemporary and stylish lounge, with leather coaches and dark marble tabletops. It was luxurious but not extravagant. It definitely looked like the kind of place celebrities, politicians, and society's high-rollers might frequent.

 _A hot spot for the drug trade?_ Yamazaki’s words rang back in Akihito’s mind.

So far, the information suggested that the club allowed its rich and famous clientele to trade and deal in illicit goods. Meanwhile, management turned a blind eye and shielded their clients from the authorities behind the private club's closed doors. The club probably received a cut of the profits. Or even more.. who knew how far down the rabbit hole this whole thing was. The entire affair STUNK of corruption.

Earlier, when Akihito pressed the detective for more information about the club, his answers were oddly vague. Just that he knew mostly nothing. On the outside, Club Sion had nothing but a good reputation. Known to be a popular spot for a long list of celebrities and socialites. It was a prestigious and old fashion lounge, nothing like the night clubs in Tokyo with long lines, huge crowds, and loud music.

Many nightclubs get involved in the drug trade, and Akihito guessed that even fancy ones were no exception.

He had promised the detective he was just planning to look around. Maybe even tail Yoshida, the club manager, when he exits the club.

It was time for Akihito to formulate a plan.

He had glanced at the time again and realized he needed to leave soon if he wanted to catch up.

The photographer walked over to his bathroom. His mind already considering what he would need. Which camera he would be using and how he would get there. He realized he’d probably have to grab something to eat and then eat it on his way there.

So much for having a nice home-cooked meal for once. But, he had to say. He was happy to be back in action. The thought of working on a juicy new case was too palatable.

One that even involved a dirty politician, a nightclub, and the drug trade. How dramatic!?

It was starting to ease the sting of his failed Masaki case.

He assessed himself briefly in the bathroom mirror. Thinking that he needed to wash his face and probably have a quick shower. A wardrobe change was necessary. His mop of blond hair would also have to be dealt with. He had to clean himself up.

He was going nightclubbing, after all. A smirk curled his lips at the thought.


	3. Part One: Ch.3: Target in Sight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one is fairly long- It was probably gonna be two chapters but honestly, I DID NOT wanna wait any longer for our two boys to meet! 
> 
> Lots of stuff happens to Akihito this chapter! but he'll be okay! 
> 
> After this, the pace of the story is gonna increase.  
> I am gonna go back to posting once a week, so you'll have to wait until next Sunday to see what happens :} ! 
> 
> Hope you like! As always, kudos and comments are much appreciated!

“That will be all. Yoshida.” Asami waved Yoshida out of his office.

The older man politely bowed and exited the office.

Asami sighed and rubbed his chin. He looked at Kirishima and Suoh, knowing they were all probably thinking the same thing.

Something wasn’t right. But it was hard to put a finger on what exactly. Perhaps it was just Asami's own gut feeling about this. He had learned long ago to trust that feeling.

Asami had always prided himself on his ability to read people. One look was all it took to know what their intentions were, to see whether he could trust someone or not.

People acted predictably. It's in their nature to follow a set path, and they rarely ever stray from it. 

Think of it like this. In chess, each piece has its express purpose. They can only move in any given way. But only within the confines of the board. Bishops can only move in diagonal directions, and Knights can only move in an L-shape. And only those at the top have the ability to move more freely.

They may have caught you off guard, but at the end of the day, they did so within the confines of the _game_. It was the same with Yoshida.

Asami knew something was amiss the moment he laid eyes on Yoshida. He saw nothing but deceit in the older man, although he couldn’t quite pinpoint over what. What did Yoshida have to hide?

Now that was an interesting conundrum. Was he hiding something related to his meeting with Diet member Sonda that was exposed? Or was it about something else entirely? The break-in? The traitor?

He _should_ let someone else deal with the clean up on this photography incident. He honestly didn’t have the time to be dealing with such matters. But frankly, he didn’t trust Yoshida to handle the situation.

Asami was usually a hands-on kind of boss. He had a tendency not to believe what he couldn’t confirm with his own two eyes. It wasn’t like him to do anything less; least something was overlooked. Plus, that looming feeling in his gut was all the more reason to take extra precaution.

“Somethings not right about Yoshida.” He spoke to Suoh and Kirishima.

“Do suspect Yoshida of being the traitor?” Suoh said, raising an eyebrow as he spoke.

“It’s possible. He’s definitely hiding something… Although I don’t peg him for it. What is there for him to gain? I think it's more likely, that he’s let one of his side ventures go too far. Maybe he’s even trying to cut me out of some deal he's been striking.”

He stood up from his seat and headed over to a window, taking out a box of his favorite Dunhill cigarettes as he did so. He lit one up and took a heavy drag, peering out the window at the city streets below him.

The photography incident. It would sort itself out. He didn’t want to say anything else on the matter. He had already spent too much time tonight, focusing on it when he should be turning his attention back on the fallout of the break-in and the hunt for the traitor.

"Suoh…look into Yoshida. Let him think we’re not on to him. He’ll do something reckless to try to cover up his messes. We’ll find out soon enough what he’s hiding. He should know better than to try to hide something from me. If he’s our traitor, I want to know. If he’s up to something else… well, that will be another matter entirely.”

“And let's make sure he’s handling this photography incident properly. I don’t want Club Sion's name in the papers while we are busy dealing with the robbery.” He continued.

Suoh nodded in acknowledgment. Asami eyes his desk. There was a stack of documents, reports, and paperwork on it. One's that he’d have to get through tonight. 

“That’ll be all for now,” Asami said, sending Suoh and Kirishima away. He wanted a moment to himself before he had to buckle down for the evening.

_________________________

Who knew a night club could be such a fortress.

Cameras covered all the typical entryways. The place seemed on high alert, and the security was daunting. But, Akihito wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

Before he had left his apartment, there was a small conundrum over what he should wear. He had already known he would try to get inside, so his attire had to be exponentially cleaner than his typical clothing.

He had chosen to wear the only suit he owned. The tie he had hurriedly put on was some old green plaid one. The white dress shirt he wore was one that he had picked up from a vintage shop. A crisp and clean one from Calvin Klein, one that he had always thought fitted him nicely and was perfect for tonight.

The photographer had already prepared some gear for tonight's expedition. He needed something that wouldn’t stand out, and he had the perfect little device for the job.

The gadget was very discreet and was like something out of an action movie. A mini camera that could be strapped around the wrist and then concealed under a sleeve. The device was silent, high powered, and discrete. Perfect for blending in.

Although you may have to remind yourself to turn off the flash- that thing could blind someone.

It turned out to be a lot easier to get into Club Sion than he had initially thought. While researching Club Sion, he found out that members had a key card that was scanned at the front door, with little to no fuss.

Fancy clubs like these wouldn’t dare to burden their high-society guest with heighten security measures. A flash of the members-only card and the last name associated with the account would be enough to get you through the door.

The photographer staked out the club for a bit, making mental notes of their security and some of the guest's coming and goings. Until he found an opening for him to get in, it came in the form of an older gentleman, drunk out of his mind, stumbling out of the club.

Men and their alcohol, always making Akihito’s job just a little easier. 

The older man lumbered towards a nearby street corner in hopes of hailing a taxi. Akihito walked over and helped him. The man was, fortunately, very far gone. He was as docile as could be and was mumbling something under his breath. He took the opportunity to _borrow_ the older man's membership card, as well as his wallet.

The photographer felt slightly bad about that, but he hailed the man a taxi and gave the driver enough to make sure he got home. It wasn’t his intention to steal anything, only borrow. He would give the wallet to the lost and found at the club once he got inside.

He was in need of the man's name, and of course, the all-important membership card. With it, he entered fairly quickly into the nightclub. He followed in with another group of club-goers, and they were shuffled into an elevator.

 _Everything is working out so perfectly, better than I could have hoped. That never happens..._ _Luck is definitely on my side tonight…And the Detective doubted I could get in. Haha._ He snickered to himself.

Akihito couldn’t help but feel a bit pleased with himself. He could feel he was grinning like an idiot.

But how could he not? His plans had gone off without a hitch. He was getting a chance to use his new specialty camera. He had effortlessly sneaked into a posh club. That feat alone was somehow extremely amusing to our photographer.

Plus, he was feeling quite spiffy in his suit, as if he was in some kind of James Bond film. Yes, Akihito was feeling pretty darn smug. He had to temper himself, though. It was time to get to work. Time to look for Yoshida and get to the bottom of this.

The place was packed when Akihito entered. He went in search of a better viewpoint so that he could take it all in. He weaved in and out of the crowd and cut a path through everyone.

Finally, he found some stairs that lead to a raised platform. It looked out over the huge room, a perfect vantage point for him. He pressed himself against the railing and surveyed the main hall of the club.

The pictures Akihito had seen earlier this evening hadn’t done the club any justice. It was like stepped into some classical Hollywood film set. The interior was classy and old fashion but felt shiny and new. Black marble-lined walls, chrome tables, and leather chairs, modern light fixtures were hanging low in the high ceiling—Art Deco, made fresh and modern.

The club was crowded, but not overly so. All of the booths and couches were occupied, and there were clusters of people standing in the middle. On the left was a makeshift stage. A jazz band was playing something ambient, music that didn’t overtake the senses.

Around him was simply put, a sea of beautiful people, decked out in designer suits and dresses. Women with lovely painted faces and men neatly polished to perfection.

Akihito recognized many faces as he surveyed the large hall, a few movie stars, some politicians, and famous businessmen. His eyes must have widened, and he gulped. 

He was suddenly growing self-conscious. His beaming confidence from earlier had now melted away.He no longer felt like James Bond, but rather that he looked like some kid someone had stuffed in a tux. He was starting to worry that eyes were dissecting him. Like he stood out too much in his sorry excuse for a suit.

He clearly didn’t belong here.

The crowd was surprisingly older than he expected. Stuffy businessmen and their dolled up trophy wives. 

He was sticking out just on his age alone, not to mention his conspicuously colored blond hair.

But he had to rein his thoughts in. As long as he appeared confident, then he could act like he belonged here and to hell with anything else. He could pass himself off as the son of one of these uptight businessmen, who had just tagged along.

Akihito didn’t stay in any one place for too long. He had toured around the main hall a few times but still had yet to spot Yoshida. He was making a mental note of some of the club's security details. Nobody paid much attention, and he was relaxing a bit.

While he made his rounds, he managed to snap some pictures of the club's other members. Figuring he might as well make a quick buck out of this entire ordeal. He was beginning to worry that maybe Yoshida would be in a backroom or maybe not even here. 

But while he'd wait- the club was rife with potential storylines. If Bar Ako had given our photographer a few scoops here and there. Club Sion would have provided him for days.

Despite not finding Yoshida, Akihito felt like a little kid at a candy shop with too many delicious options before him. He had snapped a few juicy photos, politicians mingling with businessmen or celebrities getting cozy with others. Every picture he took was probably of some value.

As excited as he was, the photographer was starting to get antsy. It was getting more and more likely that he had lost sight of his target. 

Just as Akihito was starting to worry, he sees the elevator door on the far end opening up out of the corner of his eye. Yoshida strutted out, with an entourage of three men.

 _Perfect timing._ Akihito scoffed to himself and smirked.

The photographer had his target in his sights. He had been waiting for this opportunity all night, and it was finally here. He loved this part of the job.

When after all your hard work had paid off, because you finally had your _prize in your viewfinder._

The thought made his blood pump with adrenaline, pupils dilated, and his chest puffed. The chase was on.

He watched from afar as the group made their way to a private booth near the stage. He let them settle into their seats and get comfortable. But then he started to close the gap.

Akihito's movements were deliberate and careful. As if he was an animal stalking his prey. He was cautious not to ogle for too long. But even so, he couldn’t help but let his hungry eyes take in every movement. Fixated on finding the perfect shot.

When he took his pictures, he took each one with great care and stayed mobile. Careful not to arouse too much suspicion. 

He wheeled around the group, like a shark circling its next victim. As if he could already smell the blood in the water and any sudden movements might alert suspicion. It was important not to get too greedy. Yoshida was still surrounded by his men, and they were scanning the room vigilantly.

His target was just sitting there. Everyone seemed to know him. Finally,a bulky man in black and white appeared behind Yoshida and leaned in close. He whispered something in Yoshida’s ear. Akihito captured the moment on his camera. Thinking it made for an interesting shot.

The photographer briefly wondered what news was getting passed along. Especially since Yoshida looked back up at the man in surprise, they spoke for a few minutes before the large man departed.

After he got off a few shots, he walked towards the bar closest to Yoshida. Pretending it had always been his intention to go there.

He sat himself down on a barstool and acted as if he was examining a cocktail list. Although he could still see Yoshida, chatting with some patrons, out of the corner of his eye.

It occurred to Akihito that sitting here was a decent view. He could turn around easily enough and take unrestricted photos without drawing much attention.

He thought perhaps, he should actually order something and settle in for the evening. If anything, to avoid suspicion and blend in with the crowd. His target wasn’t going to move anytime soon. He could sit back and relax a bit, enjoy the fruits of his labor, and wait for Yoshida to make a move. Then pounce when the time was right.

He ordered the house gin and tonic. The photographer had admired some of the artful cocktails he saw throughout the club. All different shapes and sizes and every color you could imagine.

After another moment, the gin and tonic were placed in front of him. It had cost a pretty penny. But it sure looked elegant, with a little slice of grapefruit in it. Akihito was normally not much of a drinker. He usually only indulged in cheap beer with his friends. But he felt like he deserved a little treat for himself, especially since the evening was going so well.

Without looking, he picked up the drink and took a sizable swig. He swallowed it but then looked down at the drink in his hand with a puzzled expression on his face.

Something was wrong…

He had expected it to taste perfect. Just as it looked, he was anticipating to taste something slightly citrusy. But, instead, there was only a distinct saltiness on the tip of his tongue. One that seemed to make a pit in his stomach.

The taste conjured up an odd fact that he had once heard or read. That GHB, a notorious and highly-used date rape drug, was known to have a distinctly salty aftertaste when mixed with alcohol.

He very nearly gave himself whiplash as he turned his head around the bar. His heart only sank deeper in his chest as his eyes landed on a crooked smile.

It was one of Yoshida’s men. The one that had whispered in Yoshida's ear, only moments earlier. He was on the other side of the bar, directly behind Akihito. Exactly where his drink had been placed.

The burly man was coyly staring Akihito down with a taunting smirk on his lips.

Akihito’s immediately felt the color rushing out of his face and the pounding of his increased heart rate. His blood ran cold.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was remembering that the drug could take up to 20 minutes to take full effect. However, the pounding in his heart was telling him a different story. It may take 20 minutes for him to pass out, but that didn’t mean he was immune from the drug's immediate side effects.

 _Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck._ Was all Akihito managed to think.

Yoshida’s man straightens up. He took Akihito by the forearm and leaned in closer. The gesture, on the outside, might have appeared friendly. But it was nothing of the sort.

“The boss would like a word with you,” the man hissed into Akihito’s ear. His grip on Akihito’s forearm tightened as he spoke. “So why don’t you just stick around. You’ll start feelin real sleepy pretty s-"

Before the man could even finish his sentence, Akihito threw the remains of his gin and tonic into the man's face.

He couldn’t give up. Not without at least a struggle. He could still put up a fight, and he’d do just that. He shook himself free from the man's clutches and bolted out of there as fast as lightning.

There were too many people and so his little act hadn’t caused much of a disturbance, except for a few turned heads.

The photographer's mind was going a mile a minute.

He had been sloppy. He had lost track of his surroundings. He had been too confident. He had been so many things, and now it seemed it was all crashing down on him.

He slowed his pace and weaved in and out of the crowd. He didn’t dare look back to see what had become of Yoshida’s man. He wasn’t fully processing what was happening. His thought was only on staying mobile and finding an exit. His frenzied behavior was probably only worsening his situation, but he needed to find a way out and fast.

Akihito had pissed some people off in his time. It was sometimes the nature of his job. In the past, he had been threatened and even beaten up. But no one had gone so far as to drug him before.

It was a promise of something far worse.

 _Luck was on my side tonight. Pfft._ His thoughts from earlier in the evening now only taunted him now.

 _What kind of Club was this- that drugged a journalist? How had they even known who I was? How had they spotted me in this crowd? Had I gotten too close?_ His mind scrambled with possible answers.

For a moment, his mind might have landed on the thought that the whole thing was a trap. But how could that be? He whisked it out of his mind as he had more pressing thoughts to deal with.

The photographer was nearing the same elevator he had entered. But now that he had gotten closer, he noticed a man with an unmistakeable earpiece sticking out, standing guard at the elevator. The man was scanning the crowd with an alert expression on his face.

_So security had clearly been alerted. Damn._

Were they covering all the exits? He couldn’t think about that right now, so he quickly whirled away. Before anyone could catch sight of him, he would have to continue his search elsewhere.

As he made his way through the crowd, he noticed other guards also scanning the room. He still had enough wits to dodge them, but he might have been spotted, so he moved quickly.

He feared they were closing in on him, but he couldn’t be entirely certain. It was best to keep moving, anyway.

There was a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face now, and he could hear the thumping of his chest. Was it the effects of the drugs or simply his pure adrenaline filled panic?

Earlier in the evening, he had noticed some waiters going behind a curtain that leads to a long hallway for staff only. It could lead to the kitchen or even to some of the back exits or emergency staircases. It seemed like a good place to head to now. However, it might be crawling with staff or security.

He darted past the curtain. Fortunately, it seemed to be clear for now.

He made his way down the hallway, but suddenly he heard voices on the other side coming towards him. Desperate for a hiding place, he swung open a door nearby that he thought would be a utility closet. He slipped inside.

It wasn’t a closet. It was the security room. Its walls lined with monitors of security feed.

As luck would have it, It was empty. Akihito breathed out a sigh of relief.

Perhaps this was actually the best place for him to be. If they were all looking for him on the main floor, this was the last place they’d look. However, it was possible that they’d come back at any time to try to search for him on the security feeds.

So he had to work fast. He was determined to get out. If he scoured the monitors, maybe - Just maybe he could find a way to get out. He could find the nearest exit, or stairwell, maybe even see if the coast was clear for him to find some other way out.

He walked up to the monitor and started scanning.

There was a lot to take in as he screened the video footage. The feeds were continually switching to different angles and other camera locations.

He could see the main hall, the club's front entrance, the booths, and the stage, the platform he had stood on earlier—the glittering faces of all those fancy people. 

There were some feeds of areas he didn’t recognize. For instance, he saw what looked like the back entrances, an alleyway outside, the kitchen, a staff room, the inside of the elevator. He saw footage of groups of people in private rooms. Even footage of the unoccupied VIP rooms.

When out of the corner of his eye, he saw something on the feed that he wished he hadn’t.

He stared at the monitor, wide-eyed, suddenly feeling his blood running cold.

A live video feed showed what appeared to be one of the private rooms. There was a group of men and a large briefcase on a table. The contents of the suitcase only flashed on the camera for a fraction of a second. But Akihito had seen it.

Guns. Big guns and lots of them.

Akihito felt numb.

What was it that the Detective had said earlier, that Club Sion was a “hot spot”?

Oh! He didn’t even know the half of it.

Akihito had come here to look for Yoshida, to look into information about a potential pay off. He thought there was some other scoop about a night club that turned a blind eye and let its rich and powerful patrons pass around drugs.

But this… an arms deal.

Suddenly things were clicking in his mind as if a light bulb had gone off.

The pay off to an influential diet member. Yamazaki not knowing enough about the club. The police never finding anything concrete. The tight security system at the club. It’s high rolling clients—a security room with showing camera feed at every angle. The arms deal, he had just witnessed, taking place in one of the clubs VIP rooms.

Yes. Yamazaki was right. Club Sion was definitely not your average night club.

Akihito shuddered with the thought. This wasn’t what he signed up for. This was far worse than anything he could have imagined, and he was quite literally- right in the middle of it with no plan of escape.

He had to get out. It was now or never.

Should he call the Detective for help? He still had his phone on him. Maybe he could even just call the police and hide until they arrived. That was an idea…but… would they even come?

Akihito had to straighten himself up and calm his nerves. He brought his mini camera up and quickly shot some pictures of the scene unfolding on the monitors in front of him. That was the best he could manage. The only thing he could think to do. At least, he could try to obtain some kind of evidence.

Even if it cost him his…He didn’t want to finish that thought.

He felt like his entire system was shutting down from the shock. But he willed himself to stay focused. He could still get out of here. Go down the hallway and escape out of some employee exit. He still had time…right?

He felt his hand tremoring, but he balled them into a fist as he exited the security room. Resolving himself in staying calm and determined.

He knew he couldn’t stay in the security room a moment longer; he slipped back out into the hallway. With his hands slightly trembling now, he wondered briefly if he could even fumble with dialing a phone number right now.

In his hurry to exit the security room, he hadn’t even checked the monitors to see if it was safe for him to leave. His desperation had gotten the better of him.

He’s halfway down the hallway when he hears the footsteps behind him. But this time, they’re no place for him to hide.

Who is to enter into the hall, but Yoshida’s man and another guard. The man’s suit is visibly stained wet from the drink Akihito had thrown. They spot Akihito on the other side of the hallway, and a sinister expression swells their faces.

They smirk at each other, releasing they have cornered Akihito. The large man takes a step towards the photographer and huffs, “Caught like a rat in a trap,” he sneers at the young man.

The man's not entirely wrong. Akihito’s situation is growing dire by the minute, and he can feel his resolve slipping with every passing moment. But the man's words only lit a spark in Akihito. He can’t help himself but snarl a clever rebuke in defiance.

“I’ve been in worse situations than being chased by a bunch of old yakuza’s,” The photographer barks back.

The burly man’s eye twitches in irritation, and the pair of guards stomp hurriedly towards Akihito.

 _Desperate times call for desperate measures._ Was all Akihito could think.

The window in front of him was his only hope of escape. He quickly grabbed the latch, praying it wasn't bolted shut. It swung open like a door, and he leaped up onto the window sill.

Fresh air greets him from the outside as he steps out. It felt oddly refreshing. With the sweat he had built up and the growing ache in his head, it breathed new life into him. For a fleeting moment, it was like he truly had made his escape.

It was one thing to climb fire escapes or to run across rooftops. But this felt entirely different. There was none of that euphoria he had felt earlier that evening when he had climbed up the fire escape to catch a glimpse of Yoshida and Sonda. In fact, that felt like a lifetime ago compared to where he was now.

Our young photographer had always been fairly light on his feet. It had occasionally been useful while on the job. He was actually pretty nimble and fast. Although he’d be the first to admit, he was certainly no expert on parkour or gymnastic. And he had undoubtedly never scaled the side of a building before - and completely freestyle for that matter.

He stood on a window sill, fueled only by fear and absolute desperation. He couldn’t think about his trembling hands right now, nor the throbbing of his head. His thoughts were only on reaching solid ground and making a getaway in one piece.

He looked down. It was worse than he could have expected. His luck had truly dried up.

They were on the 3rd floor. But whatever side of the building he was now on had nothing but brick wall beneath him. No windows or stone panels to latch onto. Nothing but a smooth brick wall to the ground below.

He didn’t have the time to register how truly fucked he was. For he heard the familiar stomping of Yoshida’s man, who was rushing towards the window.

_Up, it is then!_

How his mind had somehow remained faintly positive during this entire situation, he didn’t know. He just knew he had to keep moving, and for now - up was the only way out.

He still hadn’t given up. His mind was already formulating a new plan. If he got to the roof, perhaps he could find the perfect escape. Another fire escape, possibly? Or a wall he could descend down? Anything at this point.

His moves were almost automatic, as if on auto-pilot. From the window sill where he stood, he hooped upwards to grip a panel above him. From there, he was able to push himself upwards and reach the window sill above him. He used all his strength to heave his whole body upwards to the next level. It took him a bit to yank his legs up, but he steadied himself.

Yoshida’s man was sticking his head out the window now and was yelling something. But Akihito couldn’t be bothered to hear. The large man seemed to have disappeared back into the club. But it was so far from Akihito’s mind as he worked on getting up to the next level.

Akihito looked up. There was some kind of landing above him, with metal railing. A balcony, perhaps?

It wasn’t exactly what he was hoped for, but he was noticing his breath was wavering. He pushed himself up one more floor. From there, his hands could just about reach the bottom of the metal railing. It proved to be a secure grip for him, and he could scamper up and over.

When his feet touched solid ground again, he felt rather grateful for it. He tried to remain positive. At least he had gotten away from Yoshida’s man.

The feeling, though, didn’t last long, as his head abruptly started spinning, and he could feel his stomach turning in nausea.

 _No, no, no... it's too early. Come on. I gotta get out of here._ He thought, trying to resolve himself.

He hadn’t even truly considered what he would do once he got out of the club. Run to the first bus he saw? Try to catch a cab and just pass out in the back.

That seemed like not a half-bad outcome, considering where he was now, only going deeper into Club Sion.

He was beginning to doubt whether it was even possible to escape. Let alone what he would do once he left. He managed to stagger forward towards the large balcony doors.

The doors were slightly ajar. 

Someone was either smiling on him or, at this rate, simply prolonging his torture. But it didn’t matter. It was a slight glimmer of hope that kept Akihito moving. He stumbled into the room, pushing the doors open.

He was practically panting now and dripping with sweat. His face was entirely flushed, and his suit was totally disheveled. His blond hair was damp. His eyelids felt heavy now, and his heart felt like it might beat out his chest.

He must have looked like a bat out hell.

He felt like a bat out of hell.

It was worse than that, though. That saying implied, at the very least, an escape from hell. Akihito hadn’t even managed that.

He had clearly made a wrong turn somewhere and ended up only deeper into its recesses.

It was hopeless now. There was no way he’d make it downstairs, even if he had the luxury of riding the elevator. He could hardly move anymore, and his eyelids were feeling so heavy. He knew he didn’t have much time left.

But maybe- just maybe he could find a place to hide. It could buy him some time. He could call for help.

Or even still, maybe he’d find someone who’d take pity on him…

He rubbed his forehead, his splitting headache was worsening with every passing moment.

When suddenly, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

He had been careless, too many times to count tonight. He hadn’t even looked at his surroundings when he had pushed open the balcony doors. The room he was in was dark but, there was a singular lamp on in the middle of the room. He had just assumed, nobody was there, given how quiet and dark it seemed.

But he was horribly mistaken. He darted his head around, and he unconsciously let out an audible gasp at the sight in front of him.

The photographer's gaze was frozen stiff by a pair of intense golden eyes, and the distinctive flicker of a shinny Beretta pointed towards him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry to leave on a cliff hanger. *evil laughs*


	4. Part One, Ch. 4: Sleeping Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so they finally meet! ;}
> 
> hope u like the chapter! Posted it a bit earlier cause I couldn't wait! :)
> 
> Always like to write from Asami's POV

At first, the photographer thought he must have been hallucinating.

In the partial darkness of the room, those golden eyes appeared eerily luminescent. Almost unnatural. Was this an effect of the drug?

Our photographer couldn’t look away, though. For a moment, he was utterly transfixed, completely paralyzed in fear.

He thought it had all been so helpless before. But now, any dwindling glimmer of hope that remained in our photographer has utterly washed away. It was definitely over now. There could be no pipe dreams of escape this time.

He thought Yoshida’s man had put the fear of God in him. But he clearly had never looked fear in the face before and have it stare right back at him.

His vision blurred, taking the photographer out of his daze. He managed to shut his eyes close, and he sent a hand up to rub his eyes. The room was beginning to spin round him. He slowly blinked again, trying to steady his sight.

His vision did clear, but the image in front of him didn’t change.

Those golden eyes no longer appeared like ghostly floating orbs. They suddenly belonged to a tall, dark-haired man who was stepping out of the darkness.

This was no hallucination.

“Ww-who are you?” Akihito breathed out, panic evident in his shaken voice. 

Although he wasn’t sure why he suddenly needed to know that, was he one of Yoshida’s men? Only this one seemed _different_ than the others that had chased Akihito in the main hall. Somehow he was more impressive- as if he was not some random lackey, but something else entirely. 

Even Yoshida’s man hadn’t waved a gun around. Firearms are few and far between in Japan. They are more or less outlawed. A special permit was needed to carry one.

Before he could even think properly, the man spoke.

“Who are you?” His tepid baritone voice came out clear and controlled. He cocked his head slightly as he spoke, a blank expression on his face.

The photographer gulped, his mouth felt dry, and his stomach twisted in nausea. Somehow, his shaky words came out of his mouth.

“I- I .. T-th-they drugged me.” He had practically huffed the words out. “I- P-please.” The photographer instinctively held up his hands, palms outwardly in surrender.

The man stepped closer and gave Akihito a once over. His expression now somewhere in between confused and surprised. He held the Beretta firmly, using both arms to keep it upwards. His stance was impressive, as if he was highly trained in firearm use. He was still looking Akihito up and down, probably determining how much of a threat the young man possessed.

His eye flashed quickly to look at the open balcony door and then back at Akihito.

“How did you get up here?” The man raised his eyebrows as he spoke.

Akihito didn’t respond. He was still staring wide-eyed at the gun only a foot away from him. The photographer had never thought he'd be this close to a gun before. Plus, he could hardly keep himself straight. He was slightly drooping forward, and he guessed he didn’t have much time left.

The man seemed to have registered Akihito’s faltering state. Because Akihito noticed the man's shoulders blades loosen. His firm stance relaxing and his arms beginning to fall. He was lowering the weapon.

The photographer didn’t know what came over him. Perhaps pure hysteria had finally taken hold of him, but he just snapped. He was about to collapse at any minute. Yet he had a sudden burst of energy.

He took the small window of opportunity afforded him to virtually tackle the man in front of him. The photographer went for the gun and managed to whack it out of the man's hands, and it clanked loudly on the ground.

His small victory, however, was short-lived. For, his tackle wasn’t as forceful as he had initially thought. It didn’t even send the man off balance.

As a matter of fact, now that the man’s hands were free of the gun, they somehow quickly seized Akihito by the forearm and then shoved him against a nearby wall. 

The back of Akihito’s head slammed into the wall, and he winced on impact. He didn’t have enough time to register the pain because both of his wrists were restrained on either side of him, just as swiftly.

The man had Akihito effortlessly pinned against the wall. The momentary scuffle was over and done with before the young man had even realized.

The wind was more than just knocked out of Akihito, and all the remaining reserve of adrenaline completely dissolved away. Akihito found he could not struggle anymore. His legs were weakening, and his jaw slacked.

The photographer only managed to raise his head and look at his assailant in the eyes again. Akihito was hurt and confused, and his voice sounded so too, but it was all he could muster.

“Who…who the hell are you…?”

For a brief second, Akihito caught a glimpse of the man’s troubled expression. His eyelids closed heavily, and he completely slouched into the man's chest- finally succumbing to the effects of the drug. 

_________________________________________

_What. The. Fuck?_

A youthful-looking blond slumped lifelessly into Asami’s arms. The older man was still stunned into downright silence.

The young man's horrified expression towards the gun had caught Asami off guard. He was clearly just a boy, after all.To point such a thing at him… it felt excessive.

The crime lord had lowered his weapon in leniency. Although he never expected the young man would attempt such a desperate strike.

 _What was he thinking, trying to attack a man half his size, and one who was armed no less?_ But that was only the start of Asami’s questions. _Where in the hell did he come from?_ He was still hung up over the young man's miraculous entrance into his 6th-floor office.

Asami shifted the boy upright. He pushed the young man's shoulders up against the wall. The blond's head drooped down in his comatose-state, his eyes still gently shut. He scoped the boy's chin upwards to get a better look at the mysterious stranger. It was dark in the office with only the desk light on. Everything had happened so fast, so he had hardly gotten a good look at the stranger.

But now that the older man was looking at him more clearly, and in the light. The young blond was starting to look oddly familiar. 

Asami’s eye’s widened at the realization. _T-the photographer?_

The picture of the young man he saw only earlier flashed back in his mind. His messy mop of dyed blond hair, now slightly damp from sweat, was the biggest give away. Plus, he remembered the young man's hazel colored eyes, which had flashed in utter terror at the sight of the gun.

He looked very different now in his comatose state, not at all like the grinning young man he had seen in the picture. But it was unmistakably the same man.

He was average height-wise, shorter than Asami had expected. About a head shorter than himself. He appeared rather skinny in his modest black suit. However, the ill-fitted suit masked an athletically built figure, lean and muscular.

It was blatantly obvious, though, that the photos hadn’t done him any justice. He was more than just an attractive youth. A borderline pretty boy seemed a more apt description.

His face possessed surprisingly delicate features; creamy skin, full lips, and a petite nose. His big almond-shaped eye, now softly closed in his slumber, had long fine lashes. He was looking a bit feverish now. His face entirely flushed crimson, and he was slightly sweaty.

He looked… fragile…so young and human. 

Hardily the zealot photojournalist, the file had conjured up.

Asami quickly swept up the boy's legs up and picked him up with ease. This time the yakuza let his head flop down and brought his lifeless body to a nearby leather sofa.

Once the young man was on the sofa, Asami turns around and picks up the beretta on the ground. Securing it back in its holster, that's concealed under his suit vest.

The photo incident seemed a trifling matter, compared to the overwhelming threat that the break-in presented. The photos were on the way to be quashed by the publisher. They were never to see the light of day. Asami’s connections in the media saw to that.

His main concern was over Yoshida, and whatever the manager of Sion appeared to be hiding. A secret meeting with a Diet member didn’t bode well. Was it one of his risky side ventures that got exposed? Or was the entire incident pointing to Yoshida being the traitor Asami was looking for?

The photographer, on the other hand….Well… the crime lord had hardly thought twice about the photographer. Only that the young man was clearly a pest.

The photos were already dead, so frankly, the photographer didn’t matter much. All that was needed was to confiscate the negatives. The boy would have likely received a routine shake-down. Since it was looking likely, a bribe would not be accepted. There was no need for Asami, himself to dirty his hands with such a task.

The negatives were to be confiscated, and that would have been the end of it. Case closed.

It seemed a minor squabble. One that Asami could shrug off and assign someone else to clean up. So, he could keep his focus on the more pressing matters at hand.

But now that the boy was here, he was hard to ignore.

He had arrived in such an extraordinary fashion. As if demanded Asami’s attention, and now he had certainly gotten it.

_What was he doing here? Did he say something about being drugged?_

Asami looked him over. Had the photographer somehow snuck into Club Sion? His suit seemed evidence enough of that. Had he come in disguise, to sniff around? But something must have gone horribly wrong for him to have ended up here.

Asami had many questions, and he was still utterly baffled by the photographer's presence. The moment seemed almost comical- to say the least.

He couldn’t help but smirk. He found himself oddly impressed by the photographer's boldness. Sneaking into Club Sion. Breaking into his office, trying to pick a fight with an armed crime lord. And to top it all off, he just passes out.

_A curious turn of events, indeed. A novelty, in fact._

When was the last time someone had even dared to do such a thing? And this time, it wasn’t some equally matched rival, attempting to take over his territory. But, a boy? A boy and his camera.

_Wait a minute- Where was his camera?_

Asami patted the boy down, half-expecting to find a listening device or something of that ilk on him.

He yanked up the young blond's dress shirt, in search of a wire under his clothes. Taking an eye-full of the young man's smooth chest. There was no wire. Yet, he held the shirt up for a bit longer than was necessary before tugging the shirt back down…

Soon enough, he found the mini camera hidden in his sleeve. He also found the black Club Sion membership card in his pocket.

 _Tsk. A very_ _resourceful little street rat._ Was all in response Asami could formulate.

It should have alarmed him. The camera was a sneaky little device. It was proof that the photographer was aiming for something more than just a photo. He was investigating, prying around looking for evidence of something.

But somehow, it only amused Asami instead. The photographer had guts. You had to give him that.

Of course, he had brought his camera and hidden it so cleverly. He came to Club Sion, Asami’s signature club, and the base of his underworld operations, all by himself. Armed with nothing but a mini camera and spunk. 

The audacity of the boy was starting to grow on Asami. A smirk graced his lips, and he found himself chuckling.

He placed the little device on his desk, for later. He would discover its contents soon enough.

He went back to the search, finding the young man’s cell phone in his jacket pocket. Smartphones are always a good source of information. People are generally not careful about what is on their phones. Phone calls, text messages, emails could be accessed, social media accounts, even banking information could be retrieved. Easy to unlock as well. He used the photographer's own finger to unlock the phone.

He scoured over the phone. He thought for a moment there might be something on the phone's camera roll, but evidently, the photographer didn’t use his cellphone camera all that much, except for personal use. 

He scrolled through. There were only pictures of stray cats, selfies with said stray cats, food, more silly looking selfies, more food and….was that a snail on a leaf? Asami rolled his eyes and scoffed.

But, he continued looking. There was someone in his contacts called Detective. They had called each other twice today, Asami noted. Once earlier in the evening and then again over an hour ago.

He opened the young man's email account. His outbox showed he had sent the photos of Yoshida and Sonda to someone who was clearly his editor. While another email showed, he sent another batch of the images to a private email address. The message attached was to a Detective Yamazaki, thanking him for the scoop.

So the photographer's source about the meeting with Sonda was from a cop? How did the cop know about it?

That little bit of information raised alarm bells for Asami. He would have to look into this Detective Yamazaki, whoever he was.

Asami normally was warned ahead of time if the police were monitoring his activities. He had many inside men in the police force, including Inspector Saito, one of Tokyo's highest-ranking officers. He was a long time collaborator. Even Asami’s father had worked with Inspector Saito.

In addition to that, there was, of course, Kuroda Shinji at the Public Prosecutor office. But the crime lord had not been warned ahead of time about any ongoing investigations.

Cops in Tokyo usually _knew_ to stay clear of Asami’s organization. And for that matter, so did the press.

Clearly, the photographer didn’t get the memo.

There was something _off_ about that little bit of information. If a cop had gotten some tip about a secret meeting with Sonda, and they weren’t on Asami's payroll. If their intentions were to expose and oust corrupt public officials…

Why would they send some inexperienced kid to get the proof? And not go themselves...

They were laying it all out for some brat to expose it all...and clearly to the young man's own detriment.

The older man stood up from his seat across from the photographer and walked over to his desk. He leaned back on the edge of the table; his mind fluttering with thoughts.

Asami signed. There was something at work here, something just beyond the surface that he couldn’t make out. He had felt it earlier during his meeting with Yoshida. The feeling in his gut that he couldn’t quite shake.

Earlier, He had briefly thought that the timing of the photos was convenient…too convenient.

For it to happen, right in the midst of a mysterious break-in? And the culprit looked to be an inside man? Meanwhile, the photos caught Yoshida doing something mildly suspicious and thereby turning him into the prime suspect.

Then on top of it all, the young photographer, who had taken the incriminating photos, all to perfectly falls right into his lap. (Literally.)

The photographer was an entirely different mystery. An anomaly in this entire thing. Something that didn’t fit into this puzzle piece. Here, in the form of a sleeping prince.

An unintentionally smirk curled Asami’s mouth at his little analogy.

He knew logically that he shouldn’t be doing this…He shouldn’t be finding the young man's escapades to be charming. As if his tenacity were some kind of enduring quality. 

It was still entirely likely that the photographer was here to oust Asami’s business dealings.He had come here, in all earnestly, to _take down_ a colleague, so to speak. Nosy seemed an understatement to the young man's intrusion. He had crossed a line into more dangerous territory. The photographer was playing with fire when he had entered Club Sion.

He was asking for trouble, and trouble had certainly found him…but.

What was it the photographer had said before he had passed out: “Who…who the hell are you…?”. Asami recalled the moment and the young man's confused expression as he mustered those last few words.

It was proof the photographer had never laid eyes on Asami before tonight. He was seemingly utterly unaware of the fact that he had wondered straight into the belly of the beast.

As intrusive as he had been, the fact remained that he clearly had no idea how deep his little inquiry into Yoshida and Sonda was going.

What was Asami’s gut telling him about the photographer? What had he seen when he looked at the photographer in the eyes?

He found something he did not expect to. He saw only the exact opposite of what he had seen in Yoshida, a man who was supposedly his ally.

Asami looked back over to the sleeping photographer. It was more complicated than he could put into words. But, he couldn’t shake it. There was a reason he had lowered his gun. He saw it the moment he laid his eyes on the photographer.

That the young man posed no threat to him. He was not Asami's enemy. That he was an innocent.

Did "innocents" even exist anymore in Asami’s mind? He was a seasoned crime lord, after all. Even now, despite all that, he had learned about the photographers nosing around. He still thought that.

The boy was just a civilian. A sleeping prince, as Asami himself, had put it. Someone who was obviously playing with fire and was getting caught up in all this mess.

A vexing and contradicting feeling for sure, But at least the boy was honest about his intentions— Defiantly so.

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Asami is taken out of his thoughts. He gives the alright to enter.

It was Kirishima, who waltzed in, a troubled expression on his face. He had entered so swiftly that he had failed to observe the sleeping boy on Asami’s sofa, directly behind where he stood now.

“Sir.” He spoke. “It's that Takaba boy. He was just here at Club Sion- nosing around. Who knows how he got in? Yoshida alerted security about him. They were after him, but- but then he just disappeared!” Kirishima was obviously confounded by the news, of the photographer's boldness. However, he was in for a shock once he turned around.

Asami didn’t answer right away. His eyes flashed to the young man asleep on the couch directly behind his secretary, and then back to Kirishima. He turned his head to face his secretary and completely deadpan said,

“Is that so?”

Kirishima was taken aback by the boss's nonchalant answer. “Y-Yes.”

“How did security lose him?”

“Well, sir… it appears he jumped out of a window-”

“And scampered up the side of the building.” Asami eyebrow rose as he finished his secretaries sentence.

“H-how did you know?” His secretary, who usually had a solemn demeanor, looked absolutely perplexed at his boss's words.

Asami flashed a slight grin. He gestured with his hand and pointed to the photographer curled up on his couch. Kirishima turned around until his eyes landed on the sleeping young blond. He shot his head back towards Asami, mouth agape, and surprise all over his face.

“S-Sir. What Happ- How did he?” Kirishima was just as dumbfounded as Asami had been.

“Trust me. It's a long story.” Asami said, rubbing his forehead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter summary: Asami letting Akihito take a nice little nap in his office- how nice of him!
> 
> Kudos and comments are appreciated! I always respond! <3


	5. Part One, Ch.5: Closing in

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again posting earlier then I anticipated. I was gonna post early anyway this week, like on Friday. But I can't help myself.
> 
> So this beginning scene was like one of my favorites to write, and if I was being honest it would have taken up the entire chapter- but i knew i had to put in Akihito interrogation in this chapter too. cause I wanted to move stuff along.
> 
> I hope it comes across as good as it was when i thought it up. But i think there are a lot of themes and stuff that are throughout finder and why Asami has this weird fascination with Akihito, and also why they are both drawn to each other. so I hope you like :D
> 
> Once again, comments and kudos are appreciated <3

Asami's escorted into the security rooms on the 3rd floor, with Kirishima in tow.

He wanted to see for himself how this supposed street rat had managed to sneak into his signature Night Club, how he had bypassed security, and managed to climb his way into his 6th-floor office.

The young man in question was still completely knocked out. Asami had Suoh remove him from his office and place him into one of the club's private VIP rooms. _For safekeeping_ , Until he awoke.

In the meantime, Asami wanted to gain as much information as possible. He had to admit. His curiosity was piqued. I mean, how could it not be?

The whole affair was wildly fascinating, and he had a hunch it would only get more interesting.

The head of security at Club Sion was a burly and average looking man named Midori. He worked beside Yoshida and knew the in-and-outs of Club Sion just as well. He was a promising up and comer in Asami's organization, eager to move up in the ranks.

“Do you often drug intruders?” Asami questioned. He found the method to be a curious way to subdue the photographer.

“Well, sir, I'll be honest. We don’t get many intruders here at Club Sion. He was spotted by the bar, ordering a drink. It seemed opportunistic at the time. We didn’t want to alarm any of our guests by dragging him off by the collar. It seemed a more subtle approach. Aren’t we glad though that we did? I mean- he might have really eluded us if we hadn’t. That punk threw a drink at me. Slippery little bastard, ain’t he?” Midori said, gesturing for Asami to sit in front of a monitor he set up.

“Slippery, indeed.” Asami rebuked. He sat down and waited for Midori to show him the footage.

“It’s lucky Yoshida told me about the photographer situation. I had just finished reading his file when I saw him on the security feed. I couldn’t believe it… See- You can see him entering here, with a group. He used the membership card to get through.” Midori started. He was scrolling through the video feed and pointing at the photographer entering the club.

“Who’s card did he use?”

“Hmpft. About that, sir. Soon after he got inside, he goes straight up to one of our waiters. Hands her a wallet, says he found it unattended at one of the booths. The wallet- belongs to the person whose name he used to get in. Probably pinched it off the guy.” Midori answered.

Asami scoffed and shook his head. _Clever boy._

“And he returned the wallet?” Asami remarked curiously.

“Money and all.”

“Hmm. An honest thief then,” Asami rubbed his chin as he speaks.

They are speeding through the footage, occasional changing to different angles to continue following Akihito around the club until they see Yoshida enter into the frame.

“Slow down here,” Asami said, and Midori changed the speed to normal. 

Asami viewed the video feed attentively. For a moment, the crime lord pictured himself on the floor of Club Sion. As if he was standing right next to the young man as the events on the video feed were happening. 

He imagines he is following him through the club, a few steps behind. He stands right next to the photographer as the boy's eyes lit up as soon as he spots Yoshida across the hallway. He sees the confident grin Akihito attempts to hold back as he takes in the sight of his target. How his pupils dilated, and his blood seemed to pump with adrenaline. His exhilaration was evident.

The young man's movements were schooled. His every move, precise and careful as he shuffles through the crowd. Asami following behind as they both make their way closer to Yoshida.

The crime lord noted how discreet and overly cautious the photographer was. Being so mindful not to draw suspicion.

Asami caught the way he raised his arm, just slightly, and lifts his hand when he snaps photos from his sleeve camera. The maneuver was so inconspicuous. You would have completely missed it. Asami didn’t doubt that if he were truly standing right next to the young man, he himself wouldn’t have been the wiser to the young man's clever tricks. 

It was fascinating watching the boy at work.

Like an animal on the prowl. A natural-born hunter stalking out his prey. As if a natural compulsion was driving him ever forward, to close in on his target. Patiently waiting for the opportune moment to pounce.

There was something sensual about the whole thing. Voyeuristic, really. 

Asami watching him, watching someone else.

The pure thrill the photographer found in catching his prize in his viewfinder. It was…something to behold.

Being watched through the photographer's viewfinder….maybe, not such a bad thing after all. 

The young man was so lost in his own appetite for a story, so one-track, with only the thought of his prey in front of him, that he didn’t notice Midori closing in on him.

Asami watched as the drugs get added to the photographer's drink. It was almost tragic to watch.

The hunter becoming the hunted. The cruel twist of fate. The inherent cycle of nature running its course. There's always a bigger fish in the ocean, and unfortunately for Akihito, he found himself face to face with an apex predator.

But just like any wild animal cornered, he acts desperately. Throwing the drink in Midori’s face and slipping out of his clutches and hurriedly trying to find an escape.

The photographer finds his way into the very security room Asami sits in now. 

Now it's a bit concerning that he had entered the security room. It was a sloppy mistake on the part of Sion’s security to leave that room unattended. It was one thing for the photographer to take pictures of Yoshida or sneak into the club and snoop. But he appeared to have actually witnessed a small arms deal in one of the VIP rooms. 

That was a dangerous precedence. It was fortunate the camera was confiscated. Still, it gnawed on Asami. What the boy had witnessed couldn’t be taken lightly. It demanded a response.

The video feed continued. Asami saw how the photographer's expression turned desolate as he looked at the monitors, how his eyes widened in fear as he realized the depths of what he had gotten himself into.

Asami could see the young man's hands trembling and the evident horror written on his face. It only lasted a moment. Despite his fears, he persisted. He left the security room and growled a witty rebuke at Midori as if nothing had happened. Still with so much daring and bluster in him.

The boy didn’t show a hint of hesitation when he jumped out of the window.

That was all of the videos Midori had.

But, Asami knew the rest of the story, how Akihito had clawed his way ever upwards. His valiant attempts to escape were futile. Since it only landed him straight into Asami's office. And even then, with a gun pointed at him and any remaining hope of escape deteriorating away. Despite all that had happened. Despite maybe only moments of consciousness left in him.

He still had the gall to fight…

_You would’ve never thought he had it in him._

________________________________

It was like something comparable to waking up with a wicked hangover.

Akihito felt like a ton on bricks, his eyelids were so heavy, and his mouth was unbearably dry. His face scrunched up when he became conscious of his throbbing headache, and he groaned a bit in discomfort. His head was slumped over, and he peeled his tired eyes open, feeling groggy and disoriented.

In his daze, he rose his tired head and eyes. That is until his eyes landed on a pair of golden ones.

The photographer sprang to life, jerking back in his seat and eyes widening in horror. His memories rushing back to him. 

Some of his memories before he passed out are blurry in Akihito’s mind. But, he certainly remembers the gun being pointed at him - vividly. He remembers his desperate struggle and how he was thrown against the wall. 

But most of all, he remembered those piercing golden eyes. They were seared into his brain. 

How hair-raising they looked in the shadows, and they were just as intense in the light. Worse still, the man they belong to was just as otherworldly. 

A face with strikingly sharp features. Dark brown hair partially slicked back. He had broad shoulders and a tall stature. The man was wearing a three-piece suit, which practically screamed custom made and tailored to perfection. He was anything but ordinary.

“Ah, so you’re awake…Takaba Akihito.” The man in front of him said.

A cold chill went up Akihito's spine at hearing his own name. The man across from him had an elbow on the table in front of him and was leaning his face against his hand. There was a cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth. He looked so unperturbed, so calm and confident. 

Akihito ignored the man in front of him for a moment to take in his surroundings. He doesn’t know it, but he is in one of Club Sion’s VIP rooms. The VIP rooms in Club Sion were for a select few members. Security was stiffer here than on the other floors, and only a few wait staff could wander around. Club Sion prided itself on privacy or rather secured privacy. Soundproofing was only one necessary safeguard put in place. A faint buzz was the only evidence that you were actually sitting above a popular night club. It was an essential security precaution, which gave Club Sion its unique image as the epitome of discretion. 

The VIP rooms made the perfect location for Asami’s little _guest_.

Akihito was zip-tied to a metal chair in the middle of the room. There was a table in front of him. Two other people were in the room, Suoh and Kirishima, who standing behind Asami as they always did.

The photographer didn’t answer. He was trying very hard, willing himself to keep a straight face. He gulped and stared blankly back. It was the most amount of defiance he could muster, and it would have to do.

Asami straightens himself up. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Although, I can’t say I expected you to waltz into my 6th-floor office... You took the photos of Diet member Sonda, correct?”

Akihito flinched slightly at the mention of Sonda. How had they known about that? But once again, he didn’t answer. Akihito slumped into his seat, indignantly and avoided eye contact. 

He was not liking this mysterious golden-eyed man. And he particularly didn’t like that unexplainable sensation that would creep down his spine every time he made eye contact with those keen golden-eyes. It was must have been fear and dread coursing through his veins though, right?……right?

Asami turns to Kirishima, not dropping eye contact from the photographer, as he is handed the mini camera. The photographer perked up at the sight of his camera, and his eyes followed it as Asami placed it in front of him. 

“This camera…it’s important to you, isn’t it? You’ve obviously taken good care of it,” Asami said, noticing how the young man was eyeing it warily.

 _Damn him...if that bastard breaks my camera._ Akihito thought.

“It's an interesting little device. What do you think I’ll find when I get these photos developed?” Asami spoke cooly, flipping the camera around in his hands.

The older man placed it back down before he stood up. He walked to the other side of the desk, so he was next to Akihito. He leaned casually against the table and crossed his arms.

“Your snooping caused a lot of problems for me, you know. Trouble like you- It isn’t good for business. So now I have some questions for you.”

Akihito responded willfully, “What problems? What do you want with me?! Lemme go.” His voice was raised in distress. “Who are you, people? Do you work for Yoshida?”

That prompted a scoff from Asami. No. He definitely didn’t work for Yoshida.

Asami arched his back, so he was looming above the photographer. “There's nothing to be afraid of. Just answer my questions like a good little boy and we'll let you go.” Asami smirked at his little taunt. “So tell me, who was your source?”

His words elicited an irate glare from the boy. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about… I just found out about it, okay?! and even if I had anything to say, what do you plan on doing?” The photographer barked back.

“Who was your source?” Asami said again, more firmly this time. He already knew who it was. But he was trying to gauge if the photographer would lie.

Akihito rolled his eyes. He really, really wasn’t liking this golden-eyed asshole. He didn’t care about his fancy suit or his intimidating goons behind him. This was all for show, wasn’t it? Scare him into submission. But he wasn’t ready to give up, at least not yet. And he was definitely not prepared to give up his source. He slumped back into his chair. He wasn’t going to answer any more questions.

Asami seemed to have realized he was hitting a brick wall. He sat back down across from Akihito. Signaled to Kirishima, who stepped forward and closer to Akihito.

“This is my secretary.” Asami coyly introduced Kirishima to Akihito.

“Ha! A yakuza with a secretary…who would have guessed? Oh, and let me guess.. that big guy is also your secretary,” Akihito sneered back, referring to Suoh.

Despite how bad his situation was, it was the photographer nature to react with bluster and bravado. It kept his creeping dread and fear away.

“Yes, actually…”

“Oh. really?!” Akihito lightly chuckled. “I had no idea a Yakuza’s needed so many secretaries.”

Asami gave a light chuckle. “I am really not used to dealing with such cheeky delinquents.”

That elicited quite a response from the young man, who became flagrantly indignant. Getting called a delinquent must be a sore spot for him. The photographer pushed himself to the edge of his chair and scoffed, eyes narrowed in his disbelief. 

“A-A delinquent?! Who you calling a delinquent?…I mean really?…I-I can't believe you have the nerve to call _me_ a delinquent! Pft- I mean, what exactly does that make you?! Out of the two of us here, which one do you think is the _real_ criminal here?”

Asami lips curled into his infamous smirk at all of Akihito’s huffing and puffing. His animated responses to every little thing was actually quite an adorable quality. He was acting like a little angry kitten. Hissing and scratching when angered. 

Yet, a part of Asami was yet again strangely impressed by the photographer. He was still so stubborn and fearless despite the situation he was in.

Kirishima went to stand next to Akihito, a menacing expression on his face. He was not as amused by the young man's antics as his boss clearly was.

“Now, I didn’t want to have to do this, Takaba… But, you’re not giving me much of an option.” Asami spoke. Akihito looked wide-eyed at Kirishima, realizing what was to come.

WUMP.

Akihito had taken some beatings before. But man, that glasses secretary really didn’t pull his punches. The hard fist landed right in his gut.

Akihito grimaced at the punch and coughed harshly to recover.

“In this world, If you’re going to go sticking your nose in other people’s business, you’ll have to take better care of yourself.” Asami continued. He paused, letting Akihito get his breath back. “Where are the negatives for the photos, Takaba?” He said impassively. “Who was your source?”

Akihito knew he was in some serious trouble, maybe the worst he had ever been in. But who were these people? Somehow related to Yoshida?

Or worse? That seemed very likely.

There was no chance to escape now, and who knows how long it would be before he found an opening.

“Alright, …alright. J-just promise you’ll let me go once you get the negatives. I-I don’t want any more trouble” His words are honest.

He was scared. In all honesty, he was surprised he wasn’t shaking like a leaf right now. But, he was somehow managing to resolve himself into staying firm.

“I'm glad you’re using your head now, Takaba…So, where are they?”

Akihito shifted nervously in his seat. “I-I can take you to them.” He answered sheepishly. His gaze had fallen meekly to the ground.

“And what about your source?”

The photographer brought his eyes back to Asami, a glint of contempt in them. He didn’t answer.

Asami signed. He supposed it didn’t matter. He already knew who it was. Akihito looked as if he would never give up his source willingly, even if it might cause him pain.

It was… a surprising quality. Admirable even. Asami thinks to himself.

Although it was the kind of quality that if Asami were a different kind of man, it would probably get the photographer killed.

Asami sat up and gestured for Suoh and Kirishima to follow him out. They left the young man tied to the chair. Once they were out of earshot, Asami spoke to his two guards.

“Let him take you to where the negatives are. Make sure you get all of them and then…let him go- ”

“But, Sir-” Kirishima spoke.

“Let him go,” Asami repeated himself firmly. “I think he’ll cooperate. We’ve scared him enough. But, tail him afterward. I wanna know where he goes,” Asami assures his men.

Suoh and Kirishima nodded in acknowledgment and went back into the room to collect the boy.

Asami stays in the hallway. He hears footsteps behind him and turns to see who it was. Yoshida and Midori were heading towards him. Yoshida was the first to speak as he nears Asami.

“Asami-sama, I heard you caught the varmint.” Yoshida pressed.

“Yes. We just finished… _speaking_ with him,” Asami replied, revealing nothing.

Just then, Suoh and Kirishima appeared out of the VIP room with Akihito in tow. Akihito was no longer bound, and they pushed him roughly out of the room. The boy took note of Yoshida in the hallway. He squints his eyes in hostility at the manager. But he's quickly turned away as Suoh and Kirishima escorted him towards the elevator.

“Sir.” Yoshida began again. “Where are you taking him? Sir. Let me take it from here, sir….” Yoshida looked unease as his eyes trained on the back of the boy's head. His voice betraying his worry.

“Yoshida, I am handling this now.”

“But- Sir!” His voice shrill and alarmed, but then on a dime, he turned calm and tempered. “I-I only want to speak with him myself, sir. If you could just give me five minutes alone —with that little shit.”

That last part came out very sinister. Asami pondered what Yoshida had planned for the boy that had exposed his business dealings. The thought somehow troubled Asami. He found himself replying to Yoshida harshly, his anger becoming piqued by the manager's words.

“No…Yoshida. It’s. being. handled.”

Was he really shielding the boy from Yoshida’s wraith?… He guessed so. He didn’t like the thought of Yoshida’s grimy hands on him.

Yoshida seemed to be taken aback by Asami’s commanding tone but stayed silent.

They watched as Kirishima and Suoh took Akihito down in the elevator. For a moment before the doors closed, wild hazel eyes met composed golden ones. Asami suddenly had a distinct feeling that it wouldn’t be the last time he’d see those fierce hazel eyes…

That boy was gonna get Asami in trouble, wasn't he...

They wait a moment, and then Asami turns back to Yoshida. “He’s taking us to the negatives, and that’ll be the end of it.” Asami started.

“Sir, I understand, but-“

“Yosida. Enough. He’s just a punk kid. Leave him alone. I think we’ve scared him quite enough for one night, don’t you think.” Asami found himself interrupting and once again coming to the defense of said punk kid. Why he was doing that, he didn’t know.

Just as the words are out of his mouth, Midori, who was still next to Yoshida, has a sudden commotion on his earpiece, a faint buzz of people talking. He speaks into it.

“Quick get after him on foot. Sir - ” Midori looks up at Asami. “It's the kid! He’s made a break for it!” Midori rushes over to a nearby window. Asami follows behind.

Sure enough, Asami sees blond hair buzzing by on the ground floor. It was close to dawn, so the streets are empty, and he’s at full speed dashing across the street.

Midori yells into his earpiece, “There! There he is. He’s heading east on that street. Get after him.”

But the boy is already running down the street and disappearing down an alleyway.

Asami closes his eyes and shakes his head in disbelief. But all the same, he finds that an unconscious smirk is curling his lips.

He sighs jadedly. Sensing it would be the first of many sighs today.

He is still looking out the window, and he sees a few of his guards running after the boy- although he is probably long gone. Yoshida is beside himself, rubbing his forehead. Mumbling something about stupid little street rats. Midori runs off towards the elevator, possibly to join the chase.

"... Should have seen that one coming,” Asami says aloud and chuckles lightly to himself.

The entire situation seems suddenly so whimsical that he can’t help but laugh. The boy has stirred up so much in only a few hours- and it felt like it was only the beginning.

Asami muses teasingly to himself. _Ooh-ho, he is in so much trouble…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how Asami defends him from both Kirishima and Yoshida and then is like- instant regret xD


	6. Part One, Ch.6: Reputable Sources

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I go again posting a bit earlier than normal. 
> 
> I am really excited to introduce Kino this chapter, I have some fun plans for her later in the series. So I hope you like her! 
> 
> Since I am working on another series right now, I think Black and white, is gonna take a short break after I release chapter 8. I was more or less planning to do that from the start- so it has nothing to do with my new series. But hopefully i'll be back to it.

Kirishima wipes a clean finger across a desk surface.

The secretary has very high standards of cleanliness. That probably no one but himself could adhere to. He knew he was meticulous about certain things. But it’s just simply who he is.

He checks his fingers and found himself slightly impressed with how no dust or particles stuck to his finger.

 _For a punk kid… that photographer does keep a tidy home._ Kirishima thinks.

It was what he first noticed when he had entered the young man's apartment.

Only a few hours had passed since Takaba Akihito’s escape from Club Sion.

How two fully grown men and long-serving enforcers lost a 140 pound, skinny blond 23-year-old was still a mystery to Kirishima.

And don’t even get me started about how utterly mortifying it was to report that one to the boss.

The kid kicked Kirishima in the shin and then throw his body against Suoh to shove him away. 

_...So the kid had some moves._

Suoh and Kirishima were not expecting him to put up a fight. The photographer was obviously scrappy, despite his size. 

Kirishima wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He mused to himself.

The boss had ordered for his apartment to be searched soon thereafter. The little runt was nowhere to be found, but Kirishima was confident he couldn’t hide for long.

At first, the secretary had thought it odd the boss wanted to do a thorough search of his apartment. Didn’t they just need the negatives of the photos of Sonda, an in-and-out job? It seemed an unnecessary step to rifle through the young man's every trifling belonging. However, Kirishima was not about to question the boss.

But now, as he stood in the apartment, which was no longer tidy. As the men had caused quite a ruckus turning the place over—He realized that he should never question the boss.

The secretary dialed a number on his phone.

“Asami-sama, It’s me,” He spoke flatly into the phone. There was a pause before he answered again. “Yes, I am at the photographer's apartment.”

The spare room in the photographer's apartment was used as his studio. His cameras were locked in a case nearby, easily broken into. And there was a desk and a computer in one corner and a wall of bookcases. A bulletin board was attached to one of the far sidewalls that Kirishima was standing in front of.

A clutter of photographs, documents, and handwritten notes was posted to the wall. A jumble of rubbish, Kirishima had first thought. But, when he started to look at it more clearly, he realized he recognized a few familiar faces….

The secretaries' eyes landed on a photo of Hiroshi Gotouda and Yuji Tanaka, the respected leaders of Toyko’s and Osaka’s most powerful Yakuza clans. The duo is standing side by side in the photograph.

Kishima continued, “Sir…There’s something here, you’re gonna wanna see.”

____________________________

Kino Nanami was a light sleeper. Weekends she had off, and she always slept in. Her phone was on silent, so she didn’t hear the barrage of text and calls that flooded her notifications. Although nothing could stop that horrible BUZZ-ing noise of her apartment's intercom system, waking her up.

When she woke, groggy-eyed and groaning, she perked up to see the time on her alarm clock.

5:47 AM.

She groaned again and sank her head into her pillow. It was far too early for the postman to be buzzing, or even anyone else for that matter. She placed her round wire-framed glasses on herself and picked up her phone. She found herself abruptly awake at the long list of notifications that greeted her.

All from the only person, it could possibly be from- her trouble magnet co-worker.

 _What has that boy gotten into now!_ She grumbles to herself as she shot herself out of bed to pick up the intercom system that was now on its third ring.

“Akihito, I just got your messages. Come on up.” She spoke into the intercom and pressed the button to let him in. There was no response, but she hears the door clicking open. Meaning he’ll be up in a few moments, so she might as well look a bit presentable. She brushed her long black hair and put a robe around herself.

Photographers in these parts were a dime a dozen, only looking for a quick and cheap shot. But Akihito was something else entirely. He had a heart. That's for sure. She was proud of the boy's progress as if he was like a little brother. He had an instinct when it came to investigating and was oh-so eager to please.

He was a breath of fresh air in the newsroom. He had a way about him, personable and good-natured, that drew people to him. Some of the other journalists found his eagerness to be tiresome.

His youthful optimism was certainly an endearing quality, but only on occasion. As his confidence grew, he had taken to become even more reckless and impulsive. Although Kino always tried her best to keep him out of trouble. 

Kino's a few years older than Akihito, and he regarded her as a veteran and teacher. She had a boat-load of reputable sources, which made her always a good source of information.

Although she’d often admonish the young photographer for, as she put it, his apparent “disregard for his own safety.”

Today she was entirely right, although she had a feeling it wasn’t the kind of day to say ‘I told ya so.’ She went to the door and opened it.

Akihito was as pale as a sheet, and jittery too.

He looks as if he’s gone through a wind turbine. His blond hair was tousled and frizzy. He’s wearing a black suit, but his white dress shirt is a mess on top of him, and his tie is almost half off of him.

“Nanami. I-I messed up. I-I really, really messed up.”

__________________________

Breakfast. The boy needed breakfast. It didn’t hurt that Kino was sensing she’d be in need of a lot, a lot of coffee.

Just put some food in him, and his mood would instantly improve. It would help to calm him down and get him to explain.

There was a place down the street, an old family restaurant that was open 24/7. The food was cheap and comforting. Akihito cleans himself up a bit at the apartment while Kino was getting dressed. Fortunately, Kino has some spare oversized t-shirts and a men’s hoody that Akihito could put on.

After a _very_ animated 10 minutes, a plate of waffles, and TWO cups of strong coffee. Kino lets Akihito talk and doesn't interpret. Although his ravings weren’t making a lot of sense, she was soon more or less caught up on the events of Akihito’s night.

“Akihito..first of all. Are you okay?” Kino said, her voice full of genuine concern. “Your not seriously hurt, right?

“I’m fine. Really. I'm just… rattled, is all. I can’t catch a break. Got drugged. Got chased. Got walloped in the stomach. Got chased again. Ugh. It’s been a night.”

“I am glad you’re alright. Okay...What was the name of this club?” She says, trying to go back to the basics.

“Club Sion,” Akihito immediately notices the way Kino’s eyes widen and the color drain from her face. “Kino! Do you know something about Club Sion?”

Kino attempts to recover, she curses herself for her sharp reaction, but she clears her throat.

“Akihito… you should have talked to me.” She rubbed her forehead. “T-that place…I-I don’t really know anything… _nobody_ knows anything about it. Not really. All of my sources stay deathly silent when it comes to Club Sion, and there's a reason for that.”

“Kino, What do you know!?”

“…Really, Akihito, I just know it’s dangerous and to stay away.”

“What about that kingpin guy? Do you know who he is,” Akihito presses? He was desperate to found out who that mysterious golden-eyed man was. Akihito had discerned that the golden-eyed man was clearly the one in charge. If he could just ID him, then that could be the start of digging up everything and anything about him. Which, at this point, was all Akihito wanted.

“You mean it wasn’t Yoshida?”

“No, no. This was someone else. Yoshida didn’t really strike me as the person in charge, y’know. He’s just the manager. I only saw Yoshida at the end, and they were talking to each other. Maybe his boss?” Again Kino’s reaction betrayed her. “You know something, Kino. I know you do.”

“What did he look like?”

“Not like anyone else I’ve ever seen- I can tell you that. Dark hair, Golden-eyes, three-piece suit,” Kino’s eyes were widening with every bit of description he gave. “Kino! Who is he?”

Kino curses herself again for how her face betrays her. “It.. sounds like- But I don’t know. It can’t possibly be him.” She tries to backtrack.

“Kino? Please, I’ve been through a lot. I just want a name.”

Kino rolls her eyes. It would be hard to get him to back down no matter how much she wanted him to. For a moment, she convinces herself that maybe if she is honest, he’ll understand that this was not a situation to be fooling around with. She relents and continues.

“It sounds like... That guy was most likely a man named Asami. Club Sion is one of the many nightclubs and shops he owns. If it was really him. Well… you're lucky you got off so easily. On the surface, he’s a wealthy businessman who owns a large number of reputable high-end nightclubs.”

“But—“ Akihito knew it must be coming.

“But— rumor has it that beneath the surface, of that that public persona of his…he’s actually a big-time and powerful smuggler. Highly involved in the drug trade in Toyko. They say.. nothing happens in this city without him knowing about it.”

“And Club Sion- it's one of his clubs.”

“Not just one of his clubs, Akihito. _It’s The Club._ The one he built his entire business empire on.”

“How come Yami didn’t know about any of this,” Akihito says off-handedly.

“Wait a minute, Detective Yamazaki told you about this?” She leaned in. “He was your source.”

“Yeah, he gave me the tip-off on Sonda, and then he ID’ed Yoshida for me. He said he was the manager of a nightclub that the police were looking into. But - they clearly have no IDEA what is going on in that club.” He shrugs.

Kino faintly thinks it was rather odd. A cop that didn’t know about all the stories about Club Sion. Or about the infamous Asami Ryuichi. Some cops are entirely aware of what is happening at Club Sion, but they don't give a hoot.

“Akihito, I know you can’t help yourself when it comes to getting a scoop. But I think this one is WAY out of your pay grade. You’ve already gotten a taste of what these people can do. Let's not tempt fate here- Please. Just forget about what you saw at Club Sion. _Forget about Asami_. This isn’t a path you should be going down.”

“Kino. They were at my apartment. I went there before I came to you. They were tearing up the place.”

“Listen to me, Akihito. They’re probably just after the negatives. Once they get it- they won't bother with you anymore. Be grateful you got away with your life tonight! Next time you might not be so lucky. If you keep kicking this hornet's nest- I promise you- you won't like the outcome. If you just lay low for a few days and DON’T do anything reckless - It’ll be over before you know it!"

____________________________

Of course, that was not what the photographer wanted to hear.

Listening to the advice of your betters— Akihito was far too stubborn for that.

That golden-eyed bastard stole his camera, for heaven's sake! He sent his goons on him, Akihito got punched in the stomach! Who cares that he was the owner of some soulless multi-billion dollar company. Or that he was some kind of kingpin of Tokyo’s underworld.

You can’t ever forgive and forget a bastard that steals your camera.

Akihito was sure this wasn’t going to be the end of that golden-eyed prick. In fact, he's convinced that even if he chooses to follow through and listen to Kino. To “lay low” like she had asked him to, he would probably still somehow end up in that assholes crosshairs.

Plus, this could be the story of a century. Never mind that Masaki case from last week. Now, this was a story he could really sink his teeth into.

A scoop on Asami Ryuichi, as a quick search of Sion Corporation readily revealed the man's full name to be, would probably net Akihito the biggest prize of them all.

The photographer was determined to find out every little thing about the man— not that he was… obsessed or anything...

It was just the job. And No—he didn’t spend too much time reading that article about him being Japan's most eligible bachelor. That was clearly for research purposes _only_.

But how it made his blood boil. The man was living a double life. A billionaire philanthropist. A businessman. And a mogul of the hospitality and nightlife industry in Japan- all on the surface. And kingpin, drug lord, prince of darkness underneath it all.

Like an evil version of Bruce Wayne or something… No, no, that makes him sound far too cool. And Akihito would never want him to sound cool.

Since he knew he wasn’t gonna back down, as Kino wanted. Kino was likely not gonna share anything else about that Asami guy. 

The photographer couldn’t even go back home right now, so there was only one place left for him to go to get some more information.

Detective Yamazaki.

He pulled up to the police headquarters, and soon enough found himself sitting at the chair next to the detective's desk.

“Kid, Is that you?” The Detective says as he rounds the corner and sees the photographer by his desk.

“Yami, we need to talk,” Akihito responds. There’s a fleeting moment where the Detective looks a bit apprehensively at Akihito, but he nonetheless sits down next to the photographer.

“I, uh, didn’t hear back from you about last night. Um… Did something happen? Is everything okay?” He questions carefully.

Akihito sighs. He knows he must look exhausted. He hadn’t stayed with Kino for long. She let him shower at her place and wear her ex-boyfriend's oversized hoody.

“Um. Yeah, a lot happened last night. But I am still here.”

Akihito decided before arriving that it was best not to tell the Detective everything. He wasn’t feeling like hearing another lecture. Plus, a part of him knows that if he tells him everything, Yamazaki might make him write up some kind of police report, which Akihito wasn’t ready to do, just yet. 

But, his answer was a bit too cryptic than he intended it to come out as. Which only makes the Detective all the more suspicious.

“Listen. I need some information. What do you know about… Asami Ryuichi?” Akihito continues. He gets right down to business, hoping he will be able to avoid some of the questions Yamazaki might press about his evening.

“Asami Ryuichi!”

The man's name is like a thunderbolt to any conversation, lighting up a mix between genuine fear and shock. Yamazaki realizes he’s probably said that a little too loudly. He looks around as if to check if anyone heard his outburst. He sits down next to Akihito and leans in carefully. All business now. “How do you know that name?”

Akihito can’t help but let out a light chuckle “Ha-ha. Well.. let’s just say we got an introduction last night.”

Yamazaki's facial features relax a bit, “Sheesh, kid. There you go again..you sure do find the craziest things to get mixed up in…I can’t tell you much about that guy. Just that he’s bad news… So he was at Club Sion last night?”

“Yeah, and so was Yoshida… they chased after me. But… I got away.”

“That's why I’ve been telling ya, kid! Quit getting involved in the drug scandals…” He pauses after he’s done with his mild bout of scolding, but he continues.

“Club Sion was searched by the police a while back ago. We couldn’t find anything. The Department of Security would jump at the chance to nail that guy. They always get really excited whenever his name is mentioned. But our investigation into possible drug-related activity at Club Sion was discontinued. Clearly, some arrangements must have been made up top…he’s definitely one tough son of a bitch.”

This news was a lot more than what Akihito expected Yamazaki to share. But it was nerve-racking for a number of reasons. For one, they hadn’t found anything?!

Akihito was at Club Sion for a few hours, and he had quite literally stumbled upon what was clearly a considerable operation taking place there. But the police found NOTHING…

What about all the video feeds of the VIP rooms in the security room that Akihito had discovered? The police had obviously not seen those.

Then the case just gets mysteriously dropped. Asami must have deep connections if he can make an investigation like that just disappear.

“That's..That's actually kinda impressive..” Akihito says wearily.

Okay.. he’s a bit intimidated now.

“I’d be careful about getting involved with anything Asami has his hands in. He is one nasty customer. Not that there’s anything a punk like you could do…with the little experience you got. This one is WAY out of your league, kid.”

Akihito winces at that. He hates getting underestimated like that. Being treated like a kid. He’s the one that’s gotten this far. That has found more than what the police and all their resources could dig up. Akihito tempers himself when he responds.

“If I was the kind of guy to be intimidated, I’d never be able to make a living going after the big stories. I won't get anywhere in this job If I do what everyone else is doing. Yamazaki, give me something. I’ll do anything to catch this guy.”

Yamazaki scoffs and gives Akihito a familiar playful smirk, “Ain't that inspiring. The five-time juvenile delinquent sure has grown up. And here I thought I was stuck babysitting the problem child.”

Akihito teasingly smiles back at Yamazaki and narrows his eyes in jest. “Hey!”

The detective chuckles lightly, and when he composes himself, he sighs. “I might have something for you… something’s supposed to be going down— tonight. At the harbor warehouse. Do you think you’re up for it?”

“You know I am…” The photographer's eyebrow rises.

__________________________

Kino’s weekend had taken a turn for the worse when Akihito arrived in the early morning hours. But she knew it was likely only the beginning of her worries. And she knew it was about go even more downhill, as soon as she arrived back at her apartment later that afternoon, to find the door unlocked and partially opened.

Her blood runs cold, but she exhales in an attempt to calm her nerves before she enters her apartment.

He’s sitting in her armchair, relaxed and legs crossed, like a King on his throne. Smoking a Dunhill. Golden-eyes cold and predatory. He’s not with his guards or secretary, but that somehow makes it all the more hair-raising.

“Asami-sama,” Kino speaks flatly, “I had a hunch you might come knocking today.”

She notices that there's a suit jacket resting to the side of him and a green tie, the remains of Akihito’s suit that the photographer left at Kino’s apartment. So he’s already well aware that Akihito was here. He doesn’t greet her, as is to be expected. He just gets right down to business.

“I feel as if you’ve been hiding something from me, Kino…” The sarcasm and sneer in his tone is not lost on Kino.

“He’s not here anymore,” Kino wills herself to speak.

“I can see that,” He says cooly, and he takes another puff of his cigarette, “…Where is he?”

Kino shifts her eyes downward. Asami couldn’t pay her enough money to betray Akihito like that. The journalist had made many mistakes in her life, including accepting hush money from one Asami Ryuichi. An error that had cost her from the beginning, but she wasn’t about to completely sell her soul.

Plus, she doesn’t know the answer to his question anyway. She sighs.

“He’s- he’s just a kid, Asami. He’s not a-a threat to you. I-I can talk him down. You already know that nothing he does is gonna be published, anyways” She is surprised by her own bold words. She was usually fairly spineless in front of Asami Ryuichi. That must be Akihito’s influence on her.

“I see. You care for him, do you….Well, If you did the job that was asked of you. Maybe we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Kino scoffs. “He’s a freelancer. And a photographer for that matter. It’s impossible to keep track of every story that could possibly be about you or Club Sion.” Okay. Now she regrets that sharp tone of voice that she used. She has to remind herself that Asami is still a dangerous crime lord. But she continues, albeit with more care. “I-I don’t know where he went. He just came over to clean up because h-he’s scared. I told him not to do anything reckless…”

Asami stands up from his seat and reaches into his coat pocket. Kino flinches, knowing very well that's where his holster is hidden. But instead, he takes out some rectangular documents, and he plops it down on the kitchen table. The cigarette in his mouth he stomps out on a nearby bowl- that is most assuredly not an ashtray, but he doesn’t seem to care.

“I am afraid I am the _least_ of that boy's worries…”

Kino steps nearer. She adjusts her glasses to look at the photographs he has left on her table. She recognizes the men in the photo and hurriedly picks them up for a closer look.

“Wh-here did you get these?”

“In his apartment. This morning… It was the case he was working on before he got the tip about Yoshida…he hadn’t put all the dots together. And he hadn't ID'ed people but he was close. Gotouda and Tanaka, the clans, they’re working together to try and topple— me. They stole a shipment from me earlier this week. They have a mole in my organization…Your.. photographer.. He just stumbled upon it. He had a source- Masaki, he’s been dead since last week…”

Kino's mind goes a buzz as she grapples with everything she hears while Asami continues.

“Kino… they’ve set him up… I imagine they think he knows too much. They wanted me to think Yoshida was the mole, so they sent him off to dig up information on Yoshida. Then they sent him to Club Sion- they thought Yoshida would do the dirty work for them. That he’d get trapped in the club and killed - or else sold off and vanished. They were probably planning on making it a media firestorm so that I’d be distracted. He was nothing but a red herring...”

“T-that's…but how?”

“They knew he was going to be at Club Sion before he even arrived. Before we even knew who he was. Yoshida was supposed to catch him, but instead - I did…They probably didn't expect I’d get involved…”

He pauses. Letting Kino, who is completely thrown, come to grips with everything he had discovered since this morning.

“W-why are you telling me this..”

He cast his eyes downwards, his voice suddenly goes softer, “Kino… Yoshida ditched a tail I put on him- he’s probably looking for Takaba… because of the dirty he diged up on him. And _they’re_ also probably looking for him too” he gestures to the photos of Tanaka and Gotouda, the heads of two powerful yakuza clans. 

Kino’s eyes-widen. “T-there gonna kill him!”

“So I ask again. Where is he?”

Kino doesn’t listen. She is frantically digging through her purse for her phone. “H-how did they know he was going to the club— he got the tip from Yam-“ She stops dead in her tracks and looks back up at Asami. “Yamazaki!!!”

“He’s not one of mine….but he is one of Gotouda’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dun dun dun... Asami to the rescue now! :}
> 
> Anyway kudos and comments are as always very much appreciated! U don't know how much it makes me smile to read your comments! :D


	7. Part One, Ch.7: Trouble Magnet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the drama and also wrapping up the drama!

“If that damn Asami’s involved now, we might have to relocate. That brat, what if he blabs about our business connections. The group could be found out if he starts squealing to Asami.”

A not-so-abandoned warehouse in the east bay was abuzz with people.

Gotouda was an older man now, with a round face and a round belly. He had lived long enough to see the rise of “clan Asami,” so to speak. If he had a little foresight, back in the early days, maybe he would have known to never let an Asami come to power.

He had sat back and watched. As Toyko, and more or less all of Japan, slipped out of the control of the once-powerful Yakuza clans that had dominated the underworld. The clans were in a miserable state these days. In-fighting and blood feuds with other clans had only tightened Asami’s monopoly over the underworld.

The point of this little group they had formed was a rebellion of sorts. The Gotouda's and the Tanaka’s were the two most powerful clans in each of their respective cities, but they both had to bow down to Asami Ryuichi.

If they could prove, they could make a dent in Asami’s syndicated, then maybe the other clans would finally put aside their differences and band together to defeat a common enemy. They just needed time to form under the cover of secrecy.

They had only made off with one shipment, but they had an ace up their sleeve- an inside man who could shake things up from within Asami’s organization.

“Asami has eyes and ears everywhere. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to use that brat if he was on to us. We stand to lose everything if this gets blown.” Tanaka spoke. A man in his 40s, with a gaunt look to him.

“Takaba can’t say anything- because he doesn’t know about anything.” The taut response came from none other than Detective Yamazaki, a cigarette hanging loosely in his mouth.

He hadn’t always been a dirty cop. There was a time when he was once a dewy-eyed new recruit. When he was younger and lived in Kanagawa. When he had first met a certain blond delinquent.

He got transferred to the big city, that's when things started to go downhill. It started with a payoff here and a blind eye there. Just small things. He had justified his actions since his daughter needed medical surgery, and bills were piling up. The more he lied, the more he had to coverup. Like a domino effect, his web of deception he knitted only got bigger and bigger.

It wasn’t that he wanted to get Akihito involved. No, of course not, Akihito was like family to him. A reminder of the days when he was also young and innocent. Yamazaki had never thought there’d be a day where the photographer would be caught up in his web.

But it was bound to happen. The boy always had a knack for trouble and a nose for digging up things he shouldn’t.

When Akihito moved to Toyko with dreams of being a photojournalist, Yamazaki jumped at the chance of becoming a source of information for him. There he could control what Akihito learned and steer him clear of certain things.

But now there was no way out for him. By sure dumb luck, the kid heard something he wasn’t supposed to. He nose-dived right into all of Yamazaki's dirty secrets.

It was the detective's idea to pass along a tip- one that he knew Akihito couldn’t say no to.

Perhaps it was a bit of cowardice on the detectives part. He didn’t want to be the one to do the deed himself. The point was for someone else to do the dirty work, and it didn’t hurt that the kid would act as a nice little red-herring for Asami.

Takaba Akihito would take the bait and tightening the noose around his own neck. He would have likely died from his own hubris, or otherwise, get ensnared by his own naiveness and overconfidence. Yamazaki could wash his hands of it. And if the kid _only_ got stuck in some brothel hooked on drugs, well, he could swoop in like a hero when it was all over.

But the kid had somehow run into the last person they expected him to run into. The little group had yet to hear from their inside man. So they only learned that Takaba had apparently evaded capture and that Asami had gotten involved when the boy showed up at the police precinct asking questions about a one Asami Ryuichi.

They were scrambling, wondering what it was the boy had actually known about them. Masaki, the drunken idiot that had caused all of this, lay in the morgue under “John Doe” so that Akihito wouldn’t be the wiser.

Now they wished they had learned more about what Masaki had exposed before they had put a bullet in him. Or better yet, why had they pulled out the theatrics on some dumb photographer when they should have just ended it themselves.

They were all on Yamazaki’s back now. It was his idea in the first place, and if it all fell apart, it would be his head.

“There's nothing to worry about. I told Takaba to come to the warehouse tonight. It’ll be fine- we can still make it look like Yoshida did it.” Yamazaki tried to soothe his business partners, now that his own neck was on the chopping block.

“Do you really think we’re going to take your word for it? It’s not done until he’s dead. We need to pass on the goods, and get some capital so we can plan another strike against Asami.”

“Don’t forget who you have to thank for being able to do business in this town in the first place,” Yamazaki responded confidently. He reminding them that he wasn’t just some paid-off cop. He was their business partner and equally responsible for the success they had found.

“Why am I the only one getting chewed out, when I did my part of the job. Takaba went to the club just as planned. He was as good as trapped. It's the other guy's fault for letting him slip away.” The detective continues, he’s not ready to take the rap for this one.

That's when their late member arrives, he strides into the warehouse in a hurry—looking over his shoulder.

“Speak of the devil- Midori! You're late,” Gotouda calls after.

The stout head of security at Club Sion gives a slightly annoyed expression towards the older man. His brow furrows in annoyance.

“You know I can’t be acting so suspiciously after everything that's happened. I have to take extra precautions,” Midori speaks. He’s looking sheepishly down. He knows he has a bit of explaining to do.

“What the hell happened at Club Sion last night, Midori? How did the photographer get away?” Tanaka was speaking now, his impatience rising.

“Listen, a lot happen.” He says tautly. He raises his hands up defensively. “The short version is I drugged the kid, and he made a b-line for it. He scaled the side of the building, for fuck-sake,” Midori’s voices raise. "You didn't tell us he was gonna be such a flighty little bastard, did ya, Yamazaki!" 

“I don’t know what happened after that…but word spreads that Asami’s personal guard had him. Then- get this. Asami himself shows up in my security room, wanting to see the video footage. He wanted to know how he got in and what he was up to. Then he interrogated the boy himself!”

The group looks around at each other in surprise, their faces drop.

“His men wouldn’t let Yoshida or me in on the interrogation, at all. And when they’re were done, Asami says that they were letting him go. Hmftp. Yoshida almost had an aneurysm.” Midori knows what he is reporting is not great news for their little group.

It’s well known that Asami Ryuichi is sharp. They say he has a way of being steps ahead of his enemies. As if he has a sixth sense when it comes to these kinds of things.

All this news-the great crime lord himself interrogating and investigating a lowly photographer. Advocating for the photographer to be released, and un-harmed to boot. It can mean only one thing-

He’s on to them.

They have a few hours to argue and tear each other apart about it.

But what they don’t realize is directly above them, on the 2nd floor behind a wall of large crates, a photographer is perching at the ready.

___________________________

Akihito’s heart felt like it was about to sink out of his chest.

He feels as if he could be sick. He’s heard everything, gotten it all on film too. But he hardens himself, knowing if he makes even a peep he’s as good as dead. He’s far too close for comfort, but he just had to listen in.

He knew something was up with Yamazaki, although he didn’t want to believe it. After their meeting in the police precinct Akihito, finds it undeniable strange that suddenly Yamazaki seemed to know a lot more about Club Sion than he had initially let on.

The dots just weren’t connecting in the way he thought they ought to be. He had a gut feeling that gnawed on him in the pit of his stomach. And he resolves to tail Yamazaki to confirm his suspicions. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to wait outside the precinct long before the detective leaves in a whirlwind, heading in the direction of the docks.

As the group of men squabbles below him, Akihito tries to come to grips with how his friend and mentor- could so utterly double-cross him. His mind goes over and over their recent and past interactions, looking for signs of his betrayal.

A little part of him still can’t believe it. He wants to believe that Yamazaki is still good, somewhere deep down. That maybe he had no choice, that the Yakuza's were threatening him.

He wants to sneak out the way he came and get as far away from this mess as possible. He’s still not sure what he’s going to do with this information. But he just knows that now is probably the best chance he has to get the hell out of here, while they are all at each other's throats.

But before he can even hope of sneaking out, the lights in the warehouse instantly shut off. Akihito looks around. It's like the powers got cut off, and it's dark.

_What the hell?_

The doors to the warehouse burst open, and there's a stampede of pounding boots on the ground floor. A chorus of booming voices calling, “POLICE” and “PUT YOUR HANDS UP.”

And then another loud voice coming from the open doors, “This is Inspector Saito of the Tokyo Police, we have you surrounded- put your hands above your head.”

 _The police!_ Akihito is momentarily relieved to hear it, expecting it all to be over.

But it's certainly not. The deafening sound of gunshots start pouring out, and Akihito crouches in his hiding place.

Tanaka was a fool and attempted to reach for his gun in his holster. Four bullets hit him center mass, and he’s dead before he even hits the ground.

Tanaka and Gotouda had come with two or three of their personal guards, who all hit the deck and find cover. They start exchanging fire with the officers in full riot gear.

Gotouda and Midori find cover in the crates surrounding them. Gotouda makes a b-line for the back part of the warehouse, staying low and careful.

Midori takes out his gun and starts exchanging fire, alongside some of the other guards until he gets hit in the arm and falls over.

It’s happening so fast, and Akihito realizes he no longer wants to be dead center in the middle of all of this. Especially when he hears a stray bullet flying past him a foot away from him.

He crawls out of his hiding place, adrenaline pumping as he rushes over to the roof access door that he had entered from. He pushes open the door and steps out, it's still light outside.

The roof is flat and connects to an adjacent warehouse. There’s a fire escape on the far side edge that he had climbed up to get inside. But now, the photographer feels like it's not a great place to go to now as it must be crawling with cops.

The last thing he wants to see right now is a cop. A part of him no longer trust them, since Yamazaki ended up being a wolf in sheep’s skin. But he is also aware of the fact that he might look like he was somehow involved in what is happening downstairs. And bullets might fly, and questions might get asked later, so he rather not risk it.

He starts heading in the direction of the door to the adjacent warehouse, thinking he can make a getaway from there. When behind him, he hears the door he just exited from swing open.

Yamazaki stands in the door frame. He freezes when he sees the photographer only a few yards away. The color drains from the Detective's face as if he’s just seen a ghost. “Ta-Takaba?!” He stammers out.

In a matter of seconds, the detective's face goes from stunned to hostile. The detective concludes that Akihito is the one that called the police. That Akihito is the reason his plans have fallen in disarray, and now there's only his icy cold wrath. He instantly brandishes his gun, a police-issue weapon.

Akihito doesn’t wait around. He’s already halfway to the other door before he even sees the gun coming out of the detective's holster. He hears it clicking behind him as if the safety lock is being unfastened.

He makes it to the door and shuffles inside. He can make out the Detective calling after him, but he isn’t listening. Instead, he scurries inside the warehouse.

The warehouse is filled to the brim with large crates, and maneuvering around everything is like a maze. He can’t find the steps down to the ground floor, and he's beginning to feel like he’s been walking around in circles. He hears the door to the roof opening, and all he can think is at least he’s put some distance between them.

What worries Akihito is that he can’t hear a damn thing over the pounding of his own adrenaline-filled heartbeat. Yamazaki must be moving about silently while he is probably scuttling along in fear revealing his ever position.

As he passes a tall crate, Akihito gets unexpectedly yanked by a powerful and unseen hand. He gets pinned against the crate, and his mouth gets swiftly covered by a large hand.

“Are you some kind of magnet for trouble?” A familiar baritone voice hits his ears in a whisper.

The photographer looks up and sees golden eyes staring down at him. He’s not expecting it, and he looks at Asami wide-eyed in disbelief. He momentarily believes he’s in danger, but instead, Asami looks cautiously around and brings a finger to his lips to shush Akihito. Before loosening the clamp around Akihito’s mouth.

Akihito is taken aback, wasn’t Asami also after him?

“Uh- A-Asami?” Akihito whispers in astonishment. “W-What are you doing here?”

“Who do you think called the police? I was following my head of security- and low and behold I find you here! What are _you_ doing here?” Asami’s answer is so matter-of-factly, as he responds in a hushed tone.

“What? You’re the one that called the police??” Akihito says in surprise.

His voice raises just a little bit because he can’t fathom the fact that Asami’s the one that called the police. The older man gives him a look and shushes him again for his raised voice.

“I-I well, I was following someone too.” The photographer continues in a whisper.

“Your little cop friend?”

Akihito stiffens.. “H-How do you know about that?”

“I know everything, Takaba,” Asami says, a little too confidently, and he's touting an annoyingly self-congratulating smirk as he says it.

Akihito rolls his eyes in response.

“You shouldn’t have come- This is no place for brats,” the older man continues, pretending he hadn't seen the eye roll and his tone takes on a more serious edge as he looks around the room.

Akihito huffs in irritation and narrows his eyes in ire. He suddenly reminded he’s still getting pinned to the wall, and he doesn't like how close Asami leers over him. Or that the man's intensely musky sandalwood cologne is filling his nostril and making his stomach flutter unexplainably.

“Bastard, nows not the time to be arguing- That ‘little cop’ is chasing me, and I’d liked to get the hell out of here.”

Just then, they hear from a distance, “Takaba?!” The detective shouts. “This isn’t a game, Takaba?!”

Akihito feels Asami stiffen next to him. The older man turns his head and looks in the direction the voice came’s from- he's all serious and business now.

“Stay here,” Asami orders. He begins to walk forward, but then he pauses and doubles back. He looks Akihito dead in the eyes and finger points. “I mean it. Don’t move,” He walks away before Akihito can even get a word in.

 _What is he doing? Shouldn't we just get the hell out of here?_ Akihito thinks.

He doesn’t see Asami brandishing his own Beretta out of his holster, as he turns the corner. He holds it low to the ground as he silently heads in the direction of the Yamazaki.

For a moment, Akihito does stay behind the large crate. He begins to wonder why Asami has gone after the detective, why is he even getting involved? Isn’t this just between Akihito and Yamazaki?

_Is Asami…actually protecting me? HUH? That can’t be right._

_It must be because of what I overheard at the warehouse? The detective and the others were involved in some plot against Asami, and they were only using me as a pawn.... He’s just after Yami.. Wait! Does that mean he’s gonna kill Yami or something?_

Akihito's blood runs cold. He can't give Asami the excuse to kill someone? Even after everything Yamazaki had done, he didn’t deserve to die.

Plus, that yakuza wasn’t the boss of him.

Akihito slowly steps out of his hiding place. He’s more careful now as he moves through the warehouse. He stays low and silently moves from place to place.

He hears Asami’s voice from another part of the warehouse calling out, “Yamazaki! It’s over. Stand down. Getting rid of the boy does you no good!”

 _Asami’s really not trying to kill me?_ Akihito thinks in surprise when he hears that.

There’s no response, but Akihito begins to follow where the voice came from. He still can’t hear any sign of either men.

Maybe he can do what he does best, and try to find some vantage point. Perhaps then, he can find both men and somehow put a stop to this before anyone gets killed. It's the only thing he knows to do, he can’t just cower and hide.

“Yami!” Akihito calls out in the warehouse. “I know this isn’t you! I know that there’s nothing you can do about getting yourself involved with that crowd. Yami, please, I-It’s me! You’ve done so much for me. You’ve looked after me since I was a kid- Why are you doing this!”

The photographer yells, trying to reason with Yamazaki. He is hoping his words will reach Yamazaki on some level. Akihito still believes that somewhere deep down, Yamazaki is still a good man. That he wouldn’t go this far

It alarms Akihito that no one responds. The silence is deafening. And he starts to fear that maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he should have just tried to run outside and get the police here, but thinking straight during a crisis was not Akihito’s strong suit.

He looks around for a hiding place, there a pile of crates around a shelving unit, and he thinks he can squeeze through a small crack and climb up top. While still being covered and hidden.

It's perfect- a vantage point where he can see around the warehouse but remain hidden. Sometimes being a photographer has its advantages.

Once he gets to the top, he immediately sees Asami. The man has a lethal look about him. And not just cause his tailored suit fits him, oh so perfectly. His back is pressed against a large crate a few yards away, and there's a Beretta is in his hand - the same Beretta Akihito became aquatinted with the other night at Club Sion. You can tell his ears are to the ground, and he looks around cautiously.

Akihito scans the rest of the room, and he sees movement somewhere behind Asami. It’s Yamazaki, peeking his head around a crate. The detective has seen Asami a few yards ahead of him, and he goes back behind his crate to hide. It’s all unbeknownst to Asami, who is about to round a corner himself. His back is to Yamazaki, he seems totally unaware of the unseen danger.

It’s like it happens in slow motion, as Yamazaki rounds the corner, gun raised and pointing at Asami back. 

Akihito’s mouth opens as if on its own; “BEHIND YOU!”

A shot rings out in the warehouse.

___________________________

An hour has passed, and Akihito’s is still at the docks. The police were going around and collecting statements from everyone and taking their sweet time.

So far, none of the cops he talked to were asking about what happened once he ran away from the Yamazaki on the rooftop. And anything remotely related to Asami was completely ignored and swept under the rug.

He got bits and pieces from the police about Yamazaki. They said he was long under suspicion of taking kickbacks for the past few years. How he was under investigation by internal affairs, who could never get anything solid on him. How deep his connection to Gotouda was.

Fortunately, Yami was still alive. Asami only disarmed him in the warehouse, and he was hauled off by the police who arrived a few moments later upon hearing the gunshots.

Gotouda went into custody after he tried to escape out the back. One of his guards had died, and the others got injured in various places. Midori, who Akihito saw getting shot in the arm, apparently died at the scene with an extra bullet in his forehead, execution-style.

Sure it sent an icy cold shiver up Akihito's spine, but only if he thought too hard about it. And at this point, he didn’t want to think too hard about anything.

He also found out the body of Masaki turned up at the morgue last week. Akihito had almost forgotten about that guy.

Masaki, Tanaka, Midori, one random goon.

That made four people who died because of him, in under a week. Must be a new record or something.

Akihito just wanted to go home, now. He was genuinely exhausted. He didn’t want to kick that hornet's nest anymore. He was tired of getting stung. Although he still had questions.

Akihito is sitting on a large round docking bollard, on the waterfront dock. The sun is setting on the water. It’s the kind of view he would usually kill for. Perfect for a few quick few shots. But he can’t even do that since his camera and bag got confiscated- bagged for evidence. Just his luck!

But who can think of snapping a photo at a time like this?

He thinks he has finally been left alone to take in all that has occurred. It feels like it’s finally hitting him - the depths of Yamazaki’s betrayal, how utterly used he was. He feels his eyes welling with tears before he can will them away.

_I trusted him.. How could he.._

Then from seemingly out of nowhere, a heavy hand lands on the photographer's head and ruffles his blond locks.

“Uh- Hey” Akihito responds, startled. But he’s more startled when he looks up, and finds Asami above him, a Dunhill cigarette hanging loosely in his mouth.

“Hey, I don’t know if he was really going to pull the trigger on you... but I can see how it’d be hard on a kid..” He says, his voice sounds so condescending to Akihito.

_Is this him trying to make me feel better?!?_

“What the hell?! As if you're any better? I don’t exactly think it's a 'peaceful gesture’ to shoot at a cop as if it was nothing!” Akihito says. He suddenly finds himself all riled up and burning in annoyance.

Back to his old fiery self.

“Just so we’re clear… after what you did, I don’t _owe_ you for this!” Akihito continues to fume. But Asami has already turned on his heels and is walking away. “Asami!” Akihito calls after him.

“I’ll never let crooks like you go free, not when there’s something I can do about it. This isn’t over. When I catch your ass, it’s gonna be plastered across the front page!” The photographer blusters. Should he really be saying that in front of him...

Asami only turns his head slightly, brandishing a sly smirk. He's thinking about that he should have known better than to think anything, or anyone could damper this one's eagerness. He's starting to think nothing could extinguish this little spark...

“Oh, will you, now? I’ll be looking forward to it then,” he says playfully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter... is when the fun begins :} 
> 
> Do you think Asami will forget that someone needs punishing!


	8. Part One. Ch.7.5: Loose ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't want to get you guys too excited, its a half a chapter. That I wasnt even sure if I wanted to post or not, but there were some *cough cough* loose ends I wanted to deal with and set up for what happens next chapter which I will post, hopefully by sunday.
> 
> :} be safe out there y'all!

Akihito couldn’t go back to his apartment since Asami’s men had turned it over. If he went to Takato or Kou’s, they would probably ask too many questions, and he wasn’t in the mood for an interrogation right now.

So he went back to Kino. Especially because through the whole ordeal, she had apparently sent a barrage of text messages and phone calls. When he had finally charged his phone, he had seen the long list of her rather angry fueled messages.

Filled with, “You better fucking text me back,” “Akihito, you never listen, do you!?” And “please tell me you have nothing to do with what's happening in the docks right now,” or his personal favorite, “I am calling the national guard if you don’t text me back within the hour.”

He messaged her back as soon as he could with a quick, “I lived” and attached a selfie of his deflated-looking self.

It was part joke and part serious.

When he finally arrived at her apartment, she looked just as deflated as he did, although she lite up and hugged him as soon as she saw him. Afterward, she elbowed him in the gut.

“You had me worried sick! And the first thing you do is send me a stupid meme!”

“I am sorry, I am sorry. I-I didn’t know what to send.”

“What the hell happen?” She said as she escorted him inside and reached into her fridge to get him something to drink. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“I’ll order delivery.”

So here they were again. Kino feeding Akihito so that he'd talk and calm down. They had ordered some decent sushi, and Kino let Akihito ramble about all that had occurred.

She had to give him more credit. He was a lot more clever than he sometimes lets on.

He had grown suspicious of Yamazaki after their meeting that morning. She had clearly known about Club Sion. And while it was clear, she was hiding something about it. She had at least warned him about the dangers. Meanwhile, the night before, Yami had pretended to know nothing about the club. 

Kino was only a journalist, and Yami was a cop who should have known something and yet didn't share anything. That didn't add up to Akihito.

Then when Akihito went to the precinct to ask about Asami. Yami had clearly known exactly who he was, and was suddenly keen on sharing a lot of information about Club Sion and was even willing handing out information about an apparent 'deal going down.' All this information, he had seemingly forgotten to share the night before when he knew Akihito was planning on going to Club Sion. Those things simply didn’t check.

Akihito had remembered how careful he had been at the Club last night. It was like they already knew who he was and that he would be there. The only one that could have done that was Yamazaki.

He got a little teary-eyed talking about finding out about Yami’s betrayal. How jarring it was to hear the old cop talking about trying to lure him to the docks to try his luck at getting him killed again.

“What about you? How did you know I was in trouble?” Akihito finally asked.

Kino signed. She wasn’t ready to tell him that Asami had came a-knockin. So she lied.

“Well.. um. I only heard from a source that some clans were looking for you, and I thought it was suspicious. I remembered you told me that Yami was your source, and once I started looking at him, it was like pulling on a thread that unravels everything. He was...in it really deep,”

Her answer was just vague enough. She hoped he wouldn’t press, but he seemed satisfied with the answer. But perhaps he was only tired. 

“Um...Do you know why Asami was there? It- uh. Kinda sounded like he was helping you. How did that happen?” She asks.

Kino knew very well that Asami had intervened in other ways. She was just as surprised by Asami’s intervention. It certainly seemed out of character for a man who never did anything for free. And yet... he had seemingly helped Akihito get out of the firing line.

“I don’t know… Maybe he was... Let me tell you.. it feels like the worlds turned upside down. A cop turns out to be the evil one, and I am getting rescued by a Yakuza. It’s like- opposite day or something.”

Kino signed. “I don’t know Akihito. You should know by now. People just do things to survive- to get by. Not everyone has the luxury to think in terms of -…in terms of black and white.”

Kino's thoughts were actually mostly about her own problems. Asami’s blackmailing and paying her off. She had done it for her own reasons, for causes she thought were fair. Her sister was in trouble financially, and Asami wanted someone on the inside who could keep track of stories for him. It still didn't make what she had done right. But she had to live with it and pray that it didn't make her turn out like Yamazaki. 

Yamazaki was a man out for himself. He may have had good intentions initially, but they had turned sour as soon as the money flowed in. He became a one-man show, a show of I'll do anything for anyone for the right price. 

And while she may have thought Asami was dangerous, it was well known that he was a fair arbitrator and never exceptionally cruel. And even in the underworld, there were certain rules that most lived by. 

Akihito scoffed. “Not you too! What do you think, Asami’s some kind of hero or something.”

“Oh- I would never say that. He’s definitely one mean bastard. But...You thought Yamazaki was a hero, and I am sure he thought his reasoning behind what he was doing was somehow justified. I guess what I am just trying to say is…There’s a whole lot of gray, Akihito.”

She paused and began again. “You want to be this crusader for truth, and don’t get me wrong. I think thats a valiant pursuit. But.. do you even know what the truth is? Cause after being in this business as long as I have. I sure as hell don’t, anymore. It’s easy to look at someone and make a judgment call- to make a label for them, to say they’re this or they’re that. But really, you don’t really know what goes on underneath it all.”

“I-I guess so.” He said rather defeatedly.

There was truth to what she was saying, that black and white didn't exist anymore. That people do things that you don't expect them to for reasons you can't explain.

That the 'grey' exists and always thinking in terms of Black and White means there is something fundamental you will always miss, and it could be to your own detriment.

Although his father's condescending words seemed to be ringing in his head right about now. 

It was true that he had seized up Asami and so badly wanted him to be the villain of the story. When all along, It was Yamazaki who had sunk so low. So he guessed… appearances could be rather deceiving…

Hadn't it been his motto that he'd 'peel back the layers' and uncover the truth? But the more he dug into Asami, the more that image of him became distorted and the truth unclear.

Well... obviously, there was MORE to dig into... Akihito thinks.

There was something else that was bothering him, and puts the idea forward to Kino;

“The other thing is, thats so frustrating.. is everything was wrapped up in a pretty bow for the police. But I can’t quite knock this feeling like..like something missing. y’know,” Akihito continued.

_____________________________

“It’s all that STUPID BRATS fault.” Yoshida was acting rather undignified.

Tossing the blame around wasn’t going to help him now, as he was forced to kneel in front of Asami as Suoh pushed him down. They were standing in one of Asami’s warehouses, a group of other club owners and lieutenant were invited for the show.

“Perhaps.” Asami started, cold as ice when he responded to Yoshida. “…Do you know… I got a call today from almost every clan. They called to swear that they weren’t involved in any “uprising.” They pledged alliances with me because they didn’t want there to be any _misunderstandings_ about who’s really in charge. And y’know that was all cause of that “stupid brat.” He also exposed your little betrayal- So... Two birds. One stone. Very convenient for me. Do you think playing the blame game is going to help you now? Did you think I wasn’t going to find out about your little arrangement with Sonda?"

“Asami-sama. Please. I-I’ve been a good manager. I was ju-just trying to make the client happy. It was just a separate deal. A little side venture is all- I was going to cut you in,” he tries to argue.

“A separate deal where you use my club, my clients, and one of my warehouse.” Asami shook his head disparagingly. “Don’t kid yourself. You wanted to use my resources, but you didn’t want to _share_. You purposely hid it from me. The only one to blame is yourself.”

Kirishima came up from behind and handed Asami his Beretta. Asami briskly picked it up and pointed it at the former manager's temple, in full view of all of his other lieutenants. Yoshida was a proud man, so he only closed his eyes.

“Your services are no longer required,” Asami says as he pulls the trigger.

Yoshida slumped over. Asami only gave a passing glance to the rest of the men in the warehouse. The message was loud and clear. 

As he waltzes out of the warehouse and heads outside, he took out a pack of cigarettes as he waited for the car to pull up. Kirishima, beside him, spoke up.

“Sir. What about the Takaba boy?”

Asami cleared his throat before he spoke, holding the cigarette in between his fingers. “Don’t you think we have enough on the chopping block this week, Kirishima?” He said, almost sarcastically. 

“I realize that, sir... But… he is a journalist, and I think he made it pretty clear that he wasn’t intending on giving up.”

The car pulled in just then, and Kirishima opened the door for Asami, but Asami didn’t get in right away. He was mulling over what Kirishima had said.

Asami sighs. “If it makes you feel better...put a tail on him, just in case…But. I’ll deal with him.” He says as he stepped into the car.


	9. Part One, Extra Episode: Embrace the Heat of the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so it took a little bit longer to finish, but it a bit of a longer one.
> 
> So this is my last chapter before I take a bit of a break probably for about two weeks. I am mostly doing this because I write as slow as a snail. 
> 
> When I first started writing this, I had basically already written the first like 6 chapters. And I would just edit them and post them. But the last two (and a half) chapters I've been writing on the fly. I don't want the quality of my writing to go down. Although I am kinda thinking about making my chapters shorter, for my own sake so I can keep up writing a chapter a week. 
> 
> From now on, i think the series will get a little more faster in pace, as Akihito and Asami move into the more relationship stage of their story. 
> 
> Anyway, this chapter was fun and dirty. so I hope you enjoy 😉 💜

“I thought I’d grant you your wish.”

The cool baritone voice, like melted caramel. Akihito never knew a voice could have such an effect. It left him in a state somewhere between paralyzed with a slight hint of fear and complete enthrallment. The man had a way of overwhelming the senses, overwhelming and overwriting everything.

As if he was he was just like a wild panther, you’re instantly drawn to all of its natural grace. Its shining coat of fun, or the way its muscles contract and retract, or the glint in fierce amber eyes.

The beauty of its nature, of its very existence, is so evident. But nothing can stop that ever-present hint of fear. Its essence is beautiful, but oh so deadly.

Sharp golden-eyes look down on him arrogantly, and Akihito knows exactly who they belong to. He tries to move because he wants to get away, but he feels something constricting him. Whatever it is, it’s holding him in place, and he’s helpless to move.

“Hmmm…” The baritone voice hums, as if pleased, “What a view…”

_No. Stop. Why are you looking at me like that?_

“You wanted to know more about me. Didn’t you?… So how about I teach you? Right now. Very.. very, thoroughly,”

Akihito feels his mouth being covered by a large hand, and an intense smell hits his nostrils. His heartbeat is frantic, and his whole body feels feverishly hot in an instant.

 _I feel so… strange._ Akihito twitches. _What’s happening?_

He feels hands all over him, rubbing and fondling all his sensitive parts. It’s like a ghost in the sheets, like a fog over his mind that’s overtaking him. He can’t think straight. He can’t understand what's happening.

A large hand seizes hold of the base of his cock, and smoothly strokes up and down his length. A shiver crawls up Akihito at the sensation, and he hears himself moan indecently.

He’s never heard himself make a noise like that.

 _What’s happening to me?_ He thinks. _It feels…_

A thumb kneads a particularly sensitive part of his head, and he jolts upwards. Tears well in the corner of his eye at the harshness, but the intensity of the fondling he’s receiving.

The baritone voice returns, “What? Crying already? But I’ve barely gotten started. I’ll be really good to you now.”

Golden eyes lock on to him, they look like they could swallow him whole, devouring and all-consuming. Akihito is so hypnotized by them, that he can’t look away. He feels his face going crimson red.

“You’re too cute. It’s hard for me to resist teasing someone so spirited.” The voice continues.

*FLASH* *FLASH*

The lights of his own camera almost blind him. He’s even more disoriented, but all he can think is that he’s getting his picture taken while he’s in this state? His face gets flushed anew again, at the embarrassing and mortifying thought of what these dirty pictures of him might look like.

He sees his old fashion camera rolls, the ones he uses for his special 35mm camera. The first camera he ever owned.

“Maybe I should send these photos to the publishers you’re working with, I am sure they’ll find it very interesting.”

He hears himself whimpering a bit at the prospect. These embarrassing naked photos of himself, while he’s getting groped and liking it. He can’t think of what it would do to him if his friends or family saw them.

“No? Shall I return the film to you then? They’re of no real use to me….. as you wish. I’ll give it back to you.” The man has a devilish grin he’s toting.

Akihito gets pushed back, and his are legs spread indecently. A long slick finger goes up his puckered hole, and he gasps at the intrusion. Then, he feels the tiny black film canister at the tip of his entrance, and he begins to panic.

He finally finds his voice, and in a frenzy, he yells; “What are you- stop!”

The voice returns. “Akihito...Don’t forget this. The pain I give you…and the pleasure.”

And the film canister is pushed into hi-

 _AH!_ Akihito jolts upright in bed, panting heavily and sweaty.

_SHIT!_

He lays back down and covers his reddening face and tries to regain his senses. What the hell kind of fever dream was that?!

He takes note of that raging anatomical betrayal he feels in his shorts right now. It makes him feel all the worse like he’s downright dirty for getting turned on by such a _horrible_ nightmare.

It’s been a week since what happened on the docks. Akihito has had nightmares since then, but none like that. Mostly they just involve Yamazaki chasing him, catching him. Things you might expect.

Akihito would be lying if he said Asami didn’t appear in his dreams since then. Some of them nice. Some of them not so nice. None of them quite so detailed as that one had been.

It wasn’t a good sign, especially since the crime lord presence could still be felt. While Akihito hadn’t seen his face since the docks, he had noticed some men following him around. They didn’t interact and were seemingly just monitoring the photographer. They were definitely Asami’s men, keeping tabs on Akihito, no doubt.

Akihito had for once decided to listen to Kino. He was feeling guilty that he was probably close to giving the poor journalist an aneurysm. Kino had reassured Akihito that once things had calmed down, Asami and his men would be gone for good.

So for now, Akihito would go back to working on ordinary things. He was quite satisfied doing that. Kino had called him an adrenaline junkie. And now it seemed like he had gotten his fill of adrenaline for the next few lifetimes, after what had happened on the docks.

He decided to get up and head to the shower, clean off some of that sweat, and deal with that unfortunate anatomical betrayal.

* * *

The next morning he had a case to work on, the first since everything had happened. It wasn’t anything crime related- he had made sure. But it was the perfect distraction from thinking too hard about any certain crime lord, spying on him.

It was just some celebrity, doing something only an asshole would do, and of course, Akihito would catch him in the act.

Akihito wasn’t particularly proud when he had to do celebrity news. Something about it left a bad taste in his mouth. It made him feel a bit cheap getting paid to put a camera in the face of some famous person. Like he was a paparazzi instead of a photojournalist. Most of them were just regular boring people, who probably didn’t deserve having their private lives plastered in the news. Although this asshole had it coming.

After almost two hours of waiting in a bush, Akihito popped out of his hiding place and snapped away.

 _Gotta ya!_ He thought as he took the shot that would definitely help pay the bills.

The celebrity on the other side of the lens wasn’t too pleased. Neither was the woman he was certainly not married to, who also got caught in the frame.

“HEY!” They both yelled. “Delete that!”, “Hey get back here!” They called after him as he turned to leave.

He heard their brisk pace increase behind him. Since he had caught them in a rather secluded area, he suddenly felt like maybe they were going to jump him for his camera. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time someone had done that. Perhaps it was just the last week of drama that made him more paranoid and distrustful of people, that he decided to run from the pair.

He was glad he did because they did chase and yell after him. It was definitely not like speeding through a club and having trained guards chasing you while you had just been drugged. Or running through the streets and being chased by more guards because you had just escaped said club. Or even running on top of an abandoned warehouse, from your cop friend who had betrayed you and was probably going to shot you dead- Wow, Akihito week had really SUCKED.

This was more of a low stake kinda chase. Like all that was gonna happen was maybe his camera would get smashed- a tragedy in its own right. Or he’d get punched in the face. Not that he wasn’t taking this chase seriously, the guy was seriously pissed.

So Akihito ran as if his life depended on it, he certainly felt like his life depended on it. Because he had already gotten TWO of his camera confiscated. One by Asami and the other by the police. And if a third got trashed beyond repair, it would probably be the end of him.

Why was he thinking about all of this, when he should be watching where he was going. And just then, he ran out into the street, and a big black car was suddenly right in front of him.

SHIT.

He braced for impact as it honked loudly in front of him. It veered slightly off course to avoid colliding with Akihito, who had dashed away at the last second and landed on his ass with a hard thump. The car— nay the black limo, screeched to a halt to the side of him. Its tinted windows were careening down and.. and… Asami!

The man was looking as criminally good as he always did. His only reaction to seeing the photographer flat on his ass in the middle of the street was a questioning look and a raised eyebrow. Akihito, on the other hand, felt like his jaw must have dropped to the ground.

Just then, he hears that douchey celebrity somewhere behind him, and he turned around just as he hears the man yell after him, “HEY PUNK, GIVE ME THAT CAMERA.”

Thats right, he was being chased. It had almost slipped his mind.

“Need a lift?” A baritone voice hit his ears, and the doors to the limo were suddenly wide open in front of him. The perfect and only escape.

He was crazy. He must have been. After all that had happened, here Akihito was WILLINGLY entering a car with Asami Ryuichi. He was definitely about to give poor Kino an aneurism. But it had really seemed like the best route of escape at the time.

 _The one car out of probably millions of vehicles in Tokyo, and it just HAD to be this one…What was I thinking._ Akihito muses to himself as he sits back in the limo. He was taking note of how ridiculously comfortable these leather seats were.

Asami was having a smoke, because of course, he was, thats what he always does. He crossed his hands over his chest as the car pulls away, and he cocked his head slightly with a smirk dancing on his perfect lips.

“I see you’re _still_ getting yourself into trouble,” Asami says smoothly.

Akihito was able to resist the urge to roll his eyes, but the scoff produced from his mouth and the way his head turned to the side to avoid eye contact was an impulse reaction. “Isn’t that my line,” he sneered back. Asami was the Kingpin of trouble, wasn’t he?

He was awfully proud of his little comeback. He noticed he was getting really good at them recently. Akihito wasn’t usually this way around other people, being so openly rude and confrontational. But there was something about Asami, which made his blood boil in annoyance and made him want to say impertinent things. It was probably because of that smug smirk Asami was always toting - like he was right now.

A phone rings and Asami immediately moves to pick it up and begins talking to someone. As if Akihito isn't even there. The car continues driving, and Akihito just stares out the window.

“Uh Hey. I think you can just drop me off here.” He said finally after they had traveled a few blocks. He really wanted to be out of this vehicle and far away from Asami.

But the man is not even listening. He continues to talk on his phone, vaguely. About what, Akihito has blocked out.

 _He isn’t even listening to me. Sheesh. He sure seems busy. Too busy to bother with a mutt like me…._ Akihito thinks to himself.

“Driver, just drop me off at the corner.” He says, deciding not to address Asami at all.

The car comes to a halt, and Akihito pushes open the door and exits. He’s grateful that he gets to leave. Asami peeks his head out the door and gives Akihito another one of his arrogant looking smirks.

“You should look both ways before you cross the street…Takaba.” His voice is as sultry as Akihito had conjured up in his dreams.

Akihito is so dumbstruck, he can’t think of a good comeback before the door is shut in his face, and the limo drives off.

_Damn him._

* * *

Later that evening, Akihito is back in his apartment. He’s working in his studio on the photographs he had taken earlier in the day. Ready to send them off to his editor.

He was concentrating on his work. It was better than to dwell on any certain perfect faced bastard. And he was doing a good job of it too. He's even working on some other projects he had lined up.

Everything was going right until he spots one of his other projects. It's a photoshoot he did a few weeks back of a clothing brand. He catches a glimpse of a man in an expensive-looking suit. It’s not Asami, and they’re not even half as good looking. But Akihito's mind just naturally falls there.

Why I am thinking about this, Akihito reprimands himself. _Why do I keep running into that guy everywhere I go?_

And now that his mind has gone there, he can’t stop.

His thoughts spin out of control. All thats on his mind now is those golden eyes on him and those lean and long fingers and large hands all over him. That sultry but stern voice from earlier ringing in his mind.

 _“…Takaba,”_ He shivers at the memory.

 _God fuck. What is wrong with me._ He thinks as his face goes flush.

But he can't stop himself. His thought just keep tumbling down, and he slides down the side of the wall, so he’s sitting on the ground. He feels his cock getting hard with how much his imagination has run rampant. Suddenly he feels his own hand sliding down his sweatpants and his legs spreading to allow himself access.

_No! I-I shouldn’t be doing this._

But he doesn’t stop. Instead, his hand wraps around the base of his cock, and he strokes himself. He rubs up and down his own length, just like in his dream.

A groan escapes his mouth, and he closes his eyes and bits down on his lower lip. His body temperature is rising, and his breath becomes more labored. And he goes a little bit harder and faster so he can take the edge off, and reach a climax.

When he comes, he hunches over and moans. His white cum comes gushing out, and he sits back straight against the wall, trying to regain his breath.

_What's gotten into me?_

* * *

Akihito had gotten a hold of himself after taking a quick shower and bonking his forehead against the wall a few times. That ought to clear his head up.

What he had done was much worse than when he had woken up from his dream. There could be no denying it this time. He had straight-up touched himself, thinking of…of… god damn it, he couldn’t even finish that thought.

He was disgusted in himself. Asami was undeniably physically attractive. Something he had noted about Asami at the very beginning.

But hell, trying to deny that Asami Ryuichi wasn't a gorgeous looking man would just not be factual.

It was more than just his looks that were so damn intoxicating. His smell, his voice, the grace and ease of his movements. His confidence- that arrogant dumb smirk. 

How had Akihito spiraled like this so quickly? He had been terrified of the man only last week. Did the dream make Akihito suddenly intensely aware of how formidable and damn alluring the man was. Or had it been there this whole time?

What was he even thinking? The man's a crime lord- A KINGPIN.

But..but why had he intervened on Akihito’s behalf. Why did he even care enough to tell Akihito to stay put in that warehouse, as if he was…protecting Akihito from Yamazaki. Why didn’t he just get rid of Akihito, like he probably does with everyone else who gets in his way?

Why did he open the door to the limo? Why did he even care….

_UGH! I don't wanna think about it anymore._

It was starting to give the photographer a headache. He got dressed in some lounge clothes, a tank top, and some boxer shorts. He watched some TV to get his mind off it all. He just had to get through a few more days of Asami’s tailing him everywhere, and then he could finally get the man out of his system- for good.

The evening hours ticked away. He made dinner and watched TV. Since he had spent many nights for the last few weeks, up and about following underworld leads. He had found his sleeping schedule was all wonky, and would probably be that way for some time.

So when 3 AM rolls around, he hardly even notices. Nor did he take notice to when he hears a key turning and the lock clicking, and his front door opening.

What could he say? Japan is a country with a relatively low crime rate. The last thing on his mind was a burglary. Plus, he had heard the lock clicking himself, and thefts don’t normally have keys. But Kou and Takato had keys to his apartment, and they lived nearby.

It wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary for them to visit at odd hours. Maybe they had just come back from a night out on the town and were coming to visit Akihito. Kou’s roommate also sometimes brought home lady friends every so often, so he’d crash at Akihito’s cause the walls were thin. Akihito thought nothing of it. He just continued idyll watching the TV.

“Kou?” he calls out. “Is that you?” He didn’t even turn around as he spoke.

He heard shoes getting removed in the genkan, that was around the corner. Definitely not something an intruder would do. But there was no response.

“Hey! Have you been the one taking the beer from the fridge?” Akihito continued, eyes still glued to the TV screen. “That Kirin lager doesn’t pay for itself y’know.”

No response, but Akihito heard them turning the corner into the living room, and he continues talking.

“You might as well leave now, Kou. I don’t have any food for you right now, my paycheck doesn’t come until the end of the-“ he turned around and is faced with Asami Ryuichi in his flat.

“-week” Akihito finished his sentence lamely.

“Don’t worry. I’ll eat something later then.” Asami says dryly, and a cool and playful smile laces his lips. Asami turns his head and begins to look inquisitively around at Akihito’s dingy apartment. He looks so out of place here in his three-piece suit, so much larger than life. ****

Akihito shoots up from his seat, he’s already flushing in embarrassment because Asami is seeing him in his underwear. But his blood is already boiling. _How dare he show up here!_

“W-what are you doing here!? Huh-uh aand h-how did you get in?” He’s already muddling his words, but he is so baffled by Asami’s sudden arrival.

“What are you talking about? I had a key made ages ago.” He says it so smugly, so matter-of-factly, as if it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. “It was raining outside. I was in the neighborhood, saw your lights were on. I thought I’d take shelter from the rain... Once it lets up- I’ll go.”

Now that Akihito was looking at him. The man was actually looking a little drenched. His hair still perfectly styled and slicked back, but it was dripping a bit and his suit was wet at the top. It was raining pretty hard outside, too.

But it was clearly a bald-faced lie. I mean Akihito had just seen the man earlier in the day getting chauffeured around town in a limo! There was no way, he didn’t have an umbrella or some other way of being shielded from the rain.

Akihito narrows his eyes, “The rain? What are you tal-“

“You did get a ride from me today, didn’t you. So why don’t we just consider each other even? Plus, my secretary told me he was impressed with how spotless your apartment was, and I wanted to see for myself.”

Akihito darted his eyes to the ground. He was going to protest. But he figured there was no use trying. So his only recourse was just to be snarky about it. “Fine. But you do realize it's 3 AM.”

Asami seemed please with Akihito's answer and turned around to look more around the apartment, “I hadn’t realized, I was just finishing work for the day.” He says absent-mindedly. His eyes had caught some framed photographs on the wall.

“Well, don’t expect me to play host.”

“Are these yours?” Asami asked, pointing to the frames. Ignoring his comments.

They were Akihito’s dad’s, but he didn’t want to talk about that right now. Nor pretend to have pleasant conversations with Asami, as if the man hadn’t just broken into his apartment with a key that he had no right having.

“They're, my dads. And you know another thing, are those your men watching me all the time?” He decided to be bold and just get straight down to business. “I thought since the docks. W-we had an understanding. What happened is over and done with. I just want to move on with my life- but it's a little hard with your people on my back all the time.”

Asami was quiet. Too quiet. Maybe Akihito had been a little too bold, he thought. For all their playful banter, for all their back in forth at times. Akihito still should remember this man was a dangerous yakuza.

What was he doing here at 3 AM, truly? Akihito was feeling particularly on edge about Asami’s presence here, especially since the vivid dreams and what had happened only earlier in the evening. Why was he here? Sheltering from the rain was a clear lie.

He stiffened, suddenly feel like this could become dangerous.

Asami seemed to have taken note of how on guard Akihito became, “You don’t have to be so nervous.” Although it didn’t do anything to ease the tension.

“I-I’m not nervous…Whatever, I think you should just go... I’ll loan you an umbrella or something,” Akihito says trying to sound convincing.

Asami moved suddenly, a bit too fast for Akihito’s liking. He flinched and recoiled away.

“What are you thinking?” Asami look at him, he showed a bit of surpise that he had flinched. He steps closer.

“I-I’m think I’d like you to leave,” Akihito responded. 

This was bad. This was very bad.

The older man took another step forward, and Akihito took two back. This went on until Akihito found himself up against a wall.

“Y’know if I hadn’t been blessed with your company earlier…I probably wouldn’t have come all this way…” Asami says artfully.

The smug smirk has returned to Asami's face again as Akihito found himself between a wall and Asami. Hadn’t that happen too many times this week? Akihito is frozen stiff, he shut his eyes tight, afraid of what would come next. Asami was close, he could feel his hot breath near his own ear.

“I haven’t forgotten that you broke into Club Sion…That you went to your little cop friend to get information about me. Do you think, I’d let you off so easily?” Asami spoke low and into Akihito’s ear. “You must be punished.”

That last part was unnecessarily sultry sounding, and Akihito trembled in fear. He was only thinking, that after his week from hell, it was going to end with Asami likely murdering him in his own apartment. His eye still shut tightly, as if he was waiting for a blow that would kill him or knock him out.

“W-what are you going to do?” He managed to muster out.

There was a pause that felt like an eternity to Akihito. Asami’s voice came back closer this time, and his chest pressed against Akihito’s.

“Nothing you’ll like…” and there was another pause, and he can feel Asami’s heated gaze on him. “But.. judging how you’re reacting right now… maybe you will...” He continues and he can hear him chuckle slightly.

Asami had clearly taken notice of the bulge in his boxer shorts. He's hard, and damn it all. 

“Were you anxiously awaiting my touch?” Asami continued smug as ever.

 _Fuck._ The humiliation only makes his pants feel a bit tighter. Akihito feels his face burning up even more, but he doesn’t dare open his eyes.

"You really are too cute..." Asami scoops up Akihito’s chin and crushes their mouths together.

_HUH? Wh-wwwhhhhaaaatttt?_

Asami squeezing Akihito’s cheeks in between his hand, which opens Akihito’s mouth wide enough for his tongue to access. It slips in hot and demanding, it glides in deep and brushes past his own. Asami’s other hand is on the small of his back, pushing Akihito into the deep kiss.

Akihito makes a confused sounding moan in Asami’s mouth. _T-this isn’t happening! This is a dream right?!_

But it is real, Akihito can move. He can taste and smell Asami so clearly. 

Akihito finds his hand wandering up Asami’s chest and holding on to his suit lapel. Akihito pushes himself into the kiss more, brushing his own tongue against the others.

Asami pulls away. He's surprised that the boy is kissed him back; “You shouldn’t have done that,” Asami growls out.

Akihito had forgotten how to breathe through a kiss. He’s completely breathless and winded. His face is flushed, and his lips are already swollen. He opens his eyes because he wants to peek, but he immediately regrets it.

Asami looks exactly, how he feared. Akihito thinks he looks even more terrifying now than he's ever looked before.

 _He’s gonna eat me…_ Akihito thinks desolately, and he shivers.

It’s all he can think before he’s pulled into another mind-numbing and breathtaking kiss. Asami removes his suit jacket while their lips are still locked. The older man pushes ofd Akihito’s flimsy grey t-shirt, and it's suddenly up and off him and carelessly thrown to the floor. Asami’s tie is removed in one swift movement, and three buttons are already loosening on his button-up shirt.

Asami’s sweeps his hands across Akihito’s bare chest, by his waist, and to pink nipples. His lips trailed down to Akihito’s neck, wanting to make angry marks on supple skin. He pinches those pink nipples and bits down on Akihito’s neck at the same time, so that he can hear the boy moan directly in his ear.

Asami knew this would be good, but not _this satisfying_.

They’ve hardily even started touching, but they're both already this hard. Asami's mind is already a few steps ahead- and he’s never felt in such a hurry to get to the next one.

Asami puts his hands on Akihito’s waist, and he scoops him up and over his shoulder. Because why the hell not. Akihito’s as light as a feather to him anyway, and he really wants to toss the boy on the bed.

“W-wait…A-asami..” Akihito attempts, but Asami’s already rounding the corner towards the bedroom. He indeed, toss the boy, with easy into the middle of the bed.

“Don’t you think it's a bit too late to turn back now, What are you going to do with this-” He reaches forward and pulls down Akihito’s boxers. Revealing a hard cock, which is already leaking with pre-cum. Akihito weakly attempts to cover himself, but his boxers are already sliding off his ankle and falling to the floor.

“I’ll fix it.” Is all Asami says before he crawls towards him. All of the buttons on his crisp white shirt are loose now.

Akihito only catches a glimpse of Asami rippling muscles underneath the shirt before Asami goes down on him. The man trails kisses from the V of Akihito's abdomen, and down lower. His hand wrap around Akihito’s cock. He licks the head with the tip of his tongue, and he swirls his tongue around. Then he completely engulfs Akihito’s whole length into his mouth.

Akihito is entirely beside himself. He covers his mouth to stop the moaning and to hide his reddening face. Asami has pressed his hips down, so it's hard for him to struggle, and he just has to take it. Akihito's huffs and puffs as Asami bobs his head up and down. He’s sucking and licking on his cock with such ease.

He doesn’t know when Asami takes out the little bottle of lube, one that the older man had stashed away in his pant pocket for just this occasion. Akihito is far too lost in pleasure to notice it. But the older man has already slicked up his fingers and is pressing on his puckered hole.

Akihito doesn’t have time to protest,“W-Wait no” is all the words he can assemble.

Despite his lackluster protest, the finger is plunged inside of him. Akihito throws his head back and groans. One of his legs is getting pushed upwards by the thigh, to accommodate Asami’s finger slowly pumping in and out of him. And after another moment, a second lean finger is added.

 _Fuck, this is really happening, isn’t it_? Akihito thinks although it’s been happening for quite some time.

“W-wait..Ahhhnn.. not there.”

Asami though doesn't listen and goes exactly _there._ “Noo.. wait.. I am gonna! Ahhsamii..” He cames with a gutter sounding moan and a shudder, right into Asami’s mouth.

Asami sits up, a small dribble of cum on the side of his mouth, which he licks off.

 _He licked it. H-he swallowed it._ _I have to put a stop this. This is crazy. This shouldn’t be happening._ He looks up at Asami, trying to find his voice, trying to protest this whole crazy thing. His eyes are wide in horror and confusion. 

Asami's already opened up his own pants. His black sleek underwear he’s wearing underneath is half-hazardly pushed down.

Akihito’s eye’s widen. _Oh Shit._

“N-no- No way” Akihito sure did find his voice fast, and it croaked as he spoke. “t-thats- it’s, it’s not gonna fit.”

Great. He may have found his voice, but he can’t form sentences.

A small smile graces Asami's lips, “It’ll fit.” And he grabs hold of one of Akihito’s slim ankles and drapes the lean leg over his shoulder. He slicks up his length with more of the lube.

Akihito is trembling now, “A-Asami…n-no i-tt’s too much.. I-I” he’s really begging now, and he can’t find the words anymore. Akihito didn’t think it was possible, that there was something far more terrifying than a film canister going up his ass. It was something much worse. And very, very well endowed, and probably should be classified as a deadly weapon.

The tip is placed right at his entrance. Akihito gulps. He only has the sheets underneath him to grip on to. As the length slowly sinks into him, inch by inch, splitting him up inside. His lungs feel robbed of oxygen, and he can only groan and whimper.

Asami leans over him, as he bottoms out inside the younger man. He kisses his neck and trials down the jawline. He takes his sweet time entering Akihito so the younger man can adjust on the fly. Akihito is already so tight inside, and he’s clenching on Asami even harder since he's clearly so distressed.

“It’s alright, ugh. It alright.” Asami says in a weak attempt to soothe. He goes back in for a hungry kiss to distract the boy from the momentary pain.

Akihito’s eyes sting with tears. It hurts. It fucking hurts. He fills so full, though, and in such a cloudy light haze. He feels a bump on his lower abdomen, and he knows it's Asami so deep inside him. He groans achingly, as Asami begins to move.

All he can do is focus on what's in front of him. Asami. The strong arms wrapping around him. That fullness deep inside. Those lips on his bare skin.

The pounding increases in tempo and Akihito can only muster soundless screams. For a moment, he only hears that wet squelching sound, and skin slapping and his own panting breath.

Asami sits up slightly, and the angle of penetration changes suddenly. It's right on his prostate, which gets hammered and hammered again and again. Akihito's leg is draped over Asami's shoulder, but the older man lifts Akihito's hips a few inches off the bed. He wants to push him into every thrust, deepening the penetration.

Asami looks in utter concentration, eyes blown out and glued to Akihito writhing beneath him.

Akihito’s vision blurs with the tears in his eyes, and his voice feels hoarse, and as if it's not his own. His back arches and his hips move involuntarily, following Asami thrust for thrust. It's as if his body is doing that on its own. Desperate to find the right angle that will push him over the edge.

“There- there, guh.” Akihito splatters out.

“Here,” Asami breathes out, and he hits the spot over and over. “Your close…just- come on right here, I know you can do it, just on my cock,” he says roughly through his own puffs of labored breath.

The pain and pleasure are too much to bear for Akihito. The blurriness takes over, and he feels like he’s fallen over the edge. A powerful shudder rocks his body. He comes fast and hard into his own chest. He only feels a slight notion of a gush deep inside of him, as the other empties himself inside.

But it's only for a moment before it all goes blank and his body goes completely limp.


	10. Part One, Extra Episode: Not Done, Yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn I cant believe I'm on my 10th chapter 🥳🥳🥳🥳
> 
> Its good to be back!!! I know it ended up being a bit longer than two weeks but y'know the world is kinda crazy right now and things happen! 
> 
> If you read my other fic Street Rat- you may have heard that I am kinda scaling back how frequent I'll be posting. My updates on both my fics will be a little bit more sporadic. But its really because i am slow and I dont want to be rushing to post two chapters by the end of the week. I dont want my quality of writing to decrease because i feel like i have a schedule or something.
> 
> Anyway! ENJOY! ❤️

Asami felt the photographer go limp in his arms. He slumped into Akihito’s neckline, himself, out of breath and sweaty.

He kisses the boy's shoulder and then pushes himself up to look at Akihito’s passed out. “Takaba..” He tries lightly. He brushes his finger across the boy's lips, “Wake up,…Takaba.”

But it was no use. Akihito was utterly dead to the world.

“Fuck,” he swore softly to himself. 

Asami wasn’t done with him yet.

Not anywhere near. But that's what he got for being merciless. Asami had guessed that Akihito had likely never even done the act before- let alone with another man. Yet that hadn’t stopped Asami from clearly pushing him to the limit.

He was still as hard as could be, still deeply impaled inside the boy. He was resisting the urge to fuck the unconscious photographer anyway. Just to get the rest out of his system, but the thought was decidedly not sexy.

While he caught his breath, all he could think of was that he needed a fucking smoke. But his Dunhills were in his suit jacket in the other room. 

He stood up by the side of the bed, where he was only earlier ramming himself into the boy, but now he was regrettable pulling out.

What was he supposed to do with this hard-on now? He looked down at the photographer and then back at his erection. He sighed deeply, and his shoulder slumped.

It was unfortunate that he had to do this when there was a nice warm body right here… but... Ah, well.

His lean fingers wrapped around the base of his cock. It was still slicked wet, so his hand easily glide up and down his own length. He squeezed and twisted, keeping his eyes glued on the sleeping figure below him.

The memory of their fucking was still fresh in Asami's mind. Akihito was below him, with his cum splattered all over his own chest. His battered puckered hole was still in full view of Asami. It oozed Asami's own seed. The sweat on his supple skin looked glistening and looked delectable. His face was so cute in his sweet slumber. 

Yes. There was a lot of stimulation in full view of Asami. So he could get off one more time. 

After a moment, Asami clenched his jaw and groaned. He found his release quickly, and his cum jetted all over the boy's chest. He caught his breath, and he looked down at blond. Grinning, when he noticed a droplet of his cum had landed on the boy's face.

He scooped up the runaway droplet with his thumb and smeared it on the boy's slightly swollen lips. He hummed to himself, satisfied with his work.

Asami was still wearing most of his clothes. His pants and underwear were hanging awkwardly on his thigh. He pulled them up and tucked himself back inside of them.

He wanted to clean himself up, so he walked into the nearby ensuite bathroom and grabbed a towel hanging from a rack to wipe himself off.

Asami curiously looked around the modest bathroom. The apartment, as a whole, was not as shoddy as he had expected it to be. In fact, Asami thought it rather adequate living conditions. It was really pretty clean and decent for a young man living on his own—one who had a history of bad credit and late rent payments.

He thought about taking a shower, but a part of him was afraid of using up hot water or worse still- that there was none. He supposed he’d have to wait until he was in the comfort of his own penthouse.

Plus, he wasn’t a big fan of the morning after a dalliance. He liked to leave before the other awoke because there was always that awkwardness of, “I don’t plan on ever seeing you again.”

Asami's typical hookups left him disinterested in calling them back for a repeat. And well… Takaba Akihito would be no different...

The boy was undoubtedly quite cute. He had to relent- he had wanted to try the fellow.

Asami’s curiosity was piqued the moment the boy slouched unconscious into his arms the first time they met. Perhaps it was even earlier than that, like when he had first seen the attractive photographer in the file his men had prepared for him.

But with everything going on, he hadn’t found the time. And now- well, now it was done. He had his taste of the boy. And now he could go back to being that impassive crime lord, that wouldn’t have to think twice about Takaba Akihito.

Asami exited the bathroom with a wet washcloth, figuring he might as well clean the boy off a bit and then tuck him back into bed. He wiped the photographer down and threw the wet cloth in what looked like a laundry hamper in the bathroom. He picked the boy up and repositioned him on the mattress.

He was a curious young man, wasn’t he?… Always so snarky, daring, and impulsive. He always had some kind of wisecrack up his sleeve or else ready to grumble about something… and yet.. he submitted. He hadn’t argued or protest as much as Asami was preparing for. In fact, he melted to the touch. And deliciously so too…

Asami was about to cover the boy with a blanket when Akihito suddenly grabbed hold of Asami's wrist and muttered something incoherently.

The incoherent words had almost sounded like Akihito had said in a disappointed tone, “You're leaving?”

“Takaba?” Asami said, checking if he was awake and half-asleep or if he had done that in his sleep. The photographer didn’t respond. He still looked as dead to the world as he had five minutes ago.

He was truly just asleep… and had just grumbled some nonsense...

So why...Why, for a fleeting moment, had Asami found himself actually happy with the thought of being invited to stay…and then thoroughly disappointed when it was all a mistake….

* * *

Akihito didn’t have much experience with this kind of thing. No scratch that- he had no experience with this kind of thing. Pop culture had taught him that the morning after sex, you’d be glowing with happiness or otherwise feeling light as a feather.

Well... Akihito awake with an unfortunate cramp. His whole lower half ached, and his legs felt like jello. His head pounded, and the more he thought about what had happened the night before, he felt a little nauseous.

It was definitely not supposed to be like this.

He wanted to be able to deny the whole thing and pretend it was just some wild dream he had. But nothing could stop that dull aching pain in his lower half every time he moved and breathed. He woke up on his stomach, tucked into his bed, and clean too.

The thought of Asami wandering around his apartment after he passed out. Then tucking him into bed and wiping him clean was somehow ridiculous embarrassing. He was feeling thankful that Asami at least had the decency to leave so that no one could see what a sorry lump of man he was now- to aching to get out of bed, ready to cry in his pillow because he had lost his virginity to a crime lord.

Though, he eventually found his way out of bed. He took some aspirin and a bath to help with his aching backside. He was starting to feel a bit better until he walked into his living room, which smelled of cigarette smoke. Asami had at some point last night had a smoke in his living room and smashed his cigarette bud in a plate, and left it there.

 _This is a non-smoking building! That guy! Gonna get me in trouble with my landlord!_ Akihito grumbled as he threw away the evidence and opened some windows to air out the smoke.

He washed his bedsheets and the towel Asami had used- trying to rid his apartment of anything remotely Asami related.

Moving sounded like a good right about now! He thought morbidly. 

Buying a new bed and mattress for himself was already flashing through his mind and was honestly the least he could do. He wanted nothing in this apartment to remind him of Asami.

After breakfast, he left the apartment since he had many errands to run for the day. It would, at the very least, keep his mind occupied. As soon as he leaves the apartment, he notices that the black sedan is not in its usual spot across the street. It had been there all week, tailing him.

Akihito sighs in relief. Finally! Peace at last! He thinks.

It didn’t make that much of a difference, given that Akihito was always shaking them off him anyway. A real waste of money, he had thought. Why hire someone to follow you around if they can’t even keep up. But, having Asami’s men no longer following him around made him feel like at least things were heading in the right direction.

He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen after sleeping with Asami. He could only hope that it was the end of it. That they had got whatever it was, out of their system, and now it was over.

That now, Akihito could go back to his normal life as a regular freelance photographer. One who occasionally worked as a photojournalist covering crime stories, and never mind the fact he had once slept with a notorious crime lord. A fact he would bury deep inside, so it would never see the light of day.

Asami’s little spy had disappeared, which would mean that so too would Asami disappear from his mind.

* * *

Two and half weeks had passed in a blink, and Asami was pinned down at work for the entirety of it- dealing with the fall out of all that had occurred. There was a vacuum in Japan left with Tanaka dead and Gotouda in custody. It wasn’t exactly Asami’s mess to clean up. The clans had to be the ones fighting over it.

Asami would only ensure that someone more favorable would be the one standing at the end. One who would make beneficial deals with him.

Things were mostly dwindling down, and now he could focus his attention back on other matters. Like, going to an important political fundraiser that was at the end of the week. The elections were nearing, so Asami was making his usual donations to his preferred candidates. Of course, he'd be a major donator. But it was the influence he held that was where the real importance was. An endorsement from him- would drive others to donate as well. It was as good as a win.

It's not that he particularly cared much about politics, just that whether or not they were allies. And most importantly, if they would interfere with his work. He had agents on both sides of the aisle. So the politics made little difference to him.

In preparation for the big event, he was preparing to go to one of his usual shops in the Ginza district. His tailor and stylist had some new dinner jackets and waistcoats that they had shipped in just for the occasion. And while he was there, he could look at some other things and restock his wardrobe with the latest styles.

When he arrived, he was escorted into a private changing room. His stylist shows him a rack of clothing, with things he could try on or see if they were to his liking. Some accessories were also on display, new collections of watches and cufflinks. Asami dressed fairly traditional, and his stylist knew what he liked.

It was a fairly standard fair for Asami. But today there was someone new working at the shop—an assistant, alongside Asami’s usual stylist.

A young man by the name of Kisho, in his twenties, with color-treated blond hair and big brown eyes. He was attractive and boyish, a student at Tokyo’s prestigious College of Design. From a good family, well mannered, respectful, and tasteful.

Everything that the Takaba boy was not.

It had been almost three weeks since Asami last had sex, which was a _particularly_ lengthy dry spell for our crime lord. It was about time he found another partner. And well, this young man was by all accounts just his type. Perfect for a quick little hook up before the fundraiser, to take the edge off.

But.. not this time…

Kisho was _overly_ helpful from the start. Offering champagne to be served in the private room, or a tray of sweets.

UGH. Asami hated sweets.

Then he’d be ‘checking up’ on Asami every five minutes, asking if he needed assistance.

Asami could button up his own damn shirt. Thank you very much.

For some reason, Asami found him to be endlessly annoying. And why? Perhaps it was those expectant eyes Asami was getting. The subtle - or rather not-so-subtle arch of his back when he ‘bent down’ for something. Or maybe it was the many times he’d try to make unnecessary contact. His attention towards Asami was overt, while Asami tried to give polite cue’s of disinterest and act his usually cold but civil self- but each time, the young man would just comeback even more persistent than before.

It was odd. Wouldn’t Asami normally be all over this? Jumping at the chance to sleep with some _eager beaver_. Hadn't it been almost three weeks already? But everything about Kisho just… felt so… bland.

So basic. So - been there done that.

So...phony. Like nothing but a cheap imitation.

 _…Wait a minute…a cheap imitation of whom?_ He thought. And just like that, Akihito popped into his head to answer that question….

 _He was a rather counterfeit version of Akihito, wasn’t he?_

They both shared a similar look, but they were also Oh so different. The only thing Kisho had on Takaba was perhaps a bit more grace and style- and well, probably a stable income. But that was it. He was not nearly as naturally attractive. 

Kisho was a bootlicker- like the lot of them where. He had absolutely none of that fieriness, non of the cheek. Ready to grovel for even the slightest bit of attention. It was just… so tiresome.

But wasn’t this how most of the people around Asami were? But for some reason, today, Asami just wasn’t in the mood to deal with some spineless sycophant. So when Kisho knocked on the door and announced he was entering, AGAIN. Asami just rolls his eyes.

“Asami-sama. What did you think of those pants, sir?”

“They’re fine.” He said bluntly. “That’ll be all for today.”

Asami was putting his watch back on, his back to the younger man. An “Alright, sir.” Would have sufficed as an answer. But instead, Asami, here's the lock on the door click. Kisho walks behind him and then steps down to his knees.

“Are you sure there isn't anything else I can… _service_ for you..sir?”

Asami doesn’t turn around right away.

_He’s even prostrating himself. Kinda pathetic, isn’t it?… Akihito would never….- What am I doing?_

It suddenly occurred to Asami that it was odd for him to be still thinking about Akihito. Why was he even thinking about the boy at a time like this? Why was his mind even still preoccupied with the thought of that troublemaking photographer- hadn’t that incident ended weeks ago. Hadn’t he had his taste already- why was he even comparing and contrasting the two?

…Was it because a part of him wished it was Akihito on his knees in front of him right now, instead of Kisho…

Asami turns around, and for a moment, his imagination runs rampant. He sees Akihito on the ground below him. He sees fiery hazel eyes looking up at him with want. Asami kneads his thumb against perfectly pink and parted lips. Already inflamed by the thought of those lovely lips around his cock and the subsequent concert of moans, mewls, and whimpers, he’ll be certain to _compel_ out of that mouth.Asami can already feel his cock twitching in anticipation. 

A smirk curls his lips, and his golden-eyes glimmer. His thumb is taken into the boy's mouth and sucked on. 

But then the illusion is over.

And there's only Kisho and his hankering brown eyes looking up at him. It’s like a bucket of cold water getting thrown on him. He quickly moves his hand, suddenly repulsed by the touch. He gives Kisho a chilly look and turns on his heels towards his pile of things.

“That’ll be all.” He says abruptly and harshly.

Kisho slowly stands and awkwardly fuddles out of the dressing room.

Asami quickly gets dressed in his original clothing and heads back downstairs, as if nothing has happened. Kirishima and his stylist are downstairs. He hardily acknowledges them, simply saying he’ll take what they've already discussed, and the clothes can be sent to the penthouse. He briskly exists the store out the back entrance where the limo is awaiting him.

Kirishima opens the door for him. Asami pauses before entering the door. He stops to look at Kirishima.

“Don't do that again.” He says quietly. 

Asami’s not reprimanding Kirishima. For planning that little failed rendezvous. But he makes it clear that he’s annoyed and that he knows the secretary had set it up without his knowledge.

Kirishima only responds with a dutifully nod.

* * *

At fundraising events like these, there is the front entrance. Thats where all the prestigious guest toddle in and get their pictures taken by the press and soak in their own accomplishments. And then... there’s the back entrance. 

Thats where the crime lords enter from. So they don’t get their picture taken too many times. So there’ll be less physical evidence that connects them to certain executives, socialites, or politicians who are also in attendance. 

He preferred it this way. It meant he could always show up late, which he usually was because other business would get in the way.

He entered from the back, a little over 40 minutes late. He was making the rounds, putting on his usual aloof businessman act. He had only been there about 10 minutes, his mind already in the groove of business. Everything he needed to do tonight, who he'd need to talk to, what arrangements he’d have to make, who he should avoid, who needed a bit of convincing. The usual tact he needed during events like these.

Asami scanned the crowd, quickly familiarizing himself with all who were in attendance. He looked from face to face, half paying attention as he reminds himself who they were and what business he had with them.

_He has some interesting new proposals. I’d like to talk to him about it._

_Oh, they are here, we need to discuss some contracts._

_I would prefer to avoid that persistent lady._

_Oh, and he owes me a favor._

_He just got reelected because of me, and he promised some government bonds._

_Cute blond photographers that are_ **_mine._ **

_She’s flaking out on our agreemen-_

_Wait a minute- Cute blond photographers!!_

He flashes his head around just as quickly. And there, a few yards away, was unmistakable-a waiter that looked exactly like a certain photographer.

Here he was even hallucinating about the boy, had he gone mad!?

But then, the more he looked at him, the more he realized it wasn’t a hallucination. It was _really_ Takaba. Here. Dressed as a waiter.

No, not dressed as a waiter- Disguised as a waiter. And what was that under his tray of champagne flutes he was carrying around, was that another one of those secret sleeve cameras.

_Oh-ho clever, clever boy._

A genuine smile graces Asami lips- the first he’s had in three weeks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda have a headcanon that sometimes Kirishima plays cupid sometimes. Sometimes its unintentional and sometimes its intentional. 
> 
> This time it was unintentional. But i like the idea that he knows his boss so well that he clearly sees that Asami is catching feelings for Akihito. So he kinda dangles this fruit in front of him (I.e Kisho) to see if he'll bite and go back to his normal self, get his head screwed on properly and move on from Akihito. Give him this kinda "replacement" Akihito that is "safer". 
> 
> But it totally backfires. and just makes Asami realize how different Akihito is and that what he actually really wants is the real thing and not some fake.


	11. Part two, ch.1: The Infiltrator

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So excited to start part two 😊😊
> 
> Just in case anyone wants to know, Fei long is NOT making an appearance.. yet. At least not in this part- he's only kinda in the background...obviously i dont wanna copy the manga to much, i want some original stuff too. So no fei long at least for a while.

The _former_ head of security of Club Sion, Midori, had done _one_ thing right while working as a double agent.

He stole some data off Sion’s servers. The bulk of the data was behind firewalls and other security precautions. It would take a serious hacker to unlock the encrypted files locked on a USB drive.

But that's precisely what the Tanaka clan had done. Once Midori handed over the disk drive. The information on it was surely supposed to be the nail in the coffin that would bring Asami down. The data would reveal a list of brokers and dealers of Asami’s vast smuggling ring. His list of important contacts and clients that kept his operations running smoothly.

Hacking the disk drive was perhaps the last order Tanaka Yuji had given before he was shot in the warehouse some weeks ago.

They knew from the beginning it would take time to crack into the files. They had hoped their little rebellion would still be under the guise of secrecy. That they’d have months to slowly pick apart Asami’s operation, using the information they’d gain from the disk drive.

But their little rebellion was abruptly ended. Tanaka died before the files were even cracked open. The chaos in Tanaka’s organization after he died ensured that almost everyone forgot about the USB drive.

Only Tanaka’s right-hand man, a man named Hano, knew about the disk drive's existence. But he had gone into hiding since Tanaka's death. 

The organization was scattered to the wind. Lieutenants had gone missing or turned up dead- Asami cleaning up any remains of a failed coup.

The remnants of the once-powerful Osaka based clan were getting picked apart and put back together by Asami loyalist. Only Hano remained. The disk drive was their last and only hope, but at this point, Hano wanted out. So he'd sell the disk drive to the highest bidder. Secure enough money so he’d have enough resources to continue living in hiding.

Finding someone to sell it to, one who was a known enemy of Asami- well, that was the easy part. Everyone had heard the rumors about a certain Hong Kong mafia leader, the Head of the Baishe, and his beef with Asami.

Facilitating a deal did not come easy though. It took weeks of secret talks. Eventually, an agreement was made. The deal was brokered by a small subgroup of the Baishe that worked and traded in Japan.

But what they didn’t know was that the group's very existence was already known to Asami. Yoh, Asami’s own double agent in one of the highest-ranking positions in the Baishe, had already informed Asami about the secret subgroup working in Japan.

It was important for Asami to know what deals were being made in his own turf. He had long infiltrated the small group with a man of his own to keep tabs on what the Baishe were doing in Japan.

Mikami had worked for Asami for only about three years, but he and Yoh relayed important information to Asami about the Baishe’s wheeling and dealing.

Mikami was the last to know about the deal. It wasn’t until he was at the checkpoint and they were handing over a briefcase full of money to Hano. That he knew he had missed some critical information. Mikami had wondered why the Baishe had sent that fat, bald guy over to Japan- an apparent big lieutenant in the Baishe organization. He knew a deal was stirring but, he hand no idea it was related to Asami.

Not until some of the boys bragged that the little USB drive that he had seen getting exchanged. And how they had just gotten the key to “taking down Asami Ryuichi,” that he knew he was really late to the game.

Mikami knew he didn’t have much time. The fat Chinese man would be taking the drive back to Hong Kong within a few hours. He didn’t have time to call Asami in secret to try to salvage the situation. It was now or never.

So he made himself available to get handed the briefcase. He was supposed to be heading upstairs to their hideout to hand it over to the boss, but instead, he knocked out his fellowBaishe subordinate and ran out the back. He got into his car and drove away as far as possible. 

There was no turning back now. They would know right away that the USB would be missing and, him along with it.

He tried contacting Asami, but his calls weren’t getting through. Meaning Asami had already left the office. He had gotten through to someone at Sion, that had told him to come to Sion and wait for Asami to get back. Apparently, the man was at a fundraiser in the Chiyoda ward.

Mikami didn’t want to wait, especially since he started to feel like someone was on his tail. 

Was the Baishe catching up to him already? Had they followed him all this time? It was putting him on edge. He didn’t want to go to Sion, afraid of starting some kind of shootout. So he kept driving, trying to lose whoever it was that was following him. His panic was making him make mistakes he otherwise wouldn't be making.

He leaves a message on Asami’s line, explaining the situation, the USB drive, Tanaka’s former right-hand man, being followed, the deal the Baishe had set up.

He gets to the hotel, where the fundraiser is. Thinking this is his best shot to speak to Asami right away. Hoping against hope that he can reach Asami in time…

* * *

“Champagne, sir?” Akihito asks as he makes his rounds.

 _These dumb rich people._ Akihito thinks to himself.

He was very pleased with himself. He had easily snuck into this fundraiser. No one had even questioned him when he told them the catering offices had sent him as an extra waiter. They also even found him another uniform they had on hand, just for the occasion.

They sent him out with a tray of champagne and were keeping him busy. It was all going very smoothly for the photographer.

He had just gotten his mini camera replaced. This would be his first assignment using the new device. Since his last one had gotten confiscated by a certain unnamed crime lord, that Akihito certainly didn’t want to mention.

A waiter was the perfect disguise. His tray of champagne conveniently hid his camera. He could circle around the floor as many times as he wanted without being suspicious. He was practically invisible as a waiter. Rich people don’t even look in his direction for too long. It was the perfect set up, and he was sure he had gotten some interesting shots.

It wasn’t exactly the kind of hot story he usually worked on, like a diet member getting a payoff or a nightclub involvement in the drug trade. He had just lost a _valuable source_ of information, after all, so the stories he had been working on recently weren't as exciting...

He was working on a story for the political pages about the rich and powerful donors that support specific candidates. The special interest groups and the lobbyist that were there to ensure their voices were worth more than the average voter.

Not as flashy of a story, yet important. And it was certainly not as dangerous as investigating organized crime. Akihito was still reeling over his last encounter, but he was at least taking on more serious stories. Alongside Kino, who was still working overtime to keep the photographer out of trouble.

Sneaking into a ritz fundraiser- that was pretty standard fare for our photographer.

 _Sheesh. You sure do find a different class of people at these kinds of parties._ He thinks as he looks around at party-goers.

It was a black-tie event at a fancy hotel in the Chiyoda ward, and everyone is dressed to the nines. Their glittering jewelry, tailored tux’s and long designer gowns, all signs of the wealth and status they had.

If the champagne he was serving was any indication of the kind of donors in attendance, it was a high rolling kind of party.

In fact, it was beginning to remind Akihito of a certain fancy night club in the Shinjuku district that he had also snuck into - no, no, he didn’t want to think about it...

 _With the election close, this must be their last desperate move to gather donations._ Akihito thinks as he snaps a host of new pictures. He recognizes some of the faces of important businessmen and other socialites.

He’s so focused on taking his pictures that he doesn’t notice a lady who’s trying to get one of the champagne flutes on his tray.

“Excuse me.” She finally says, “I’ll have some champagne, please?” She says rather rudely.

Akihito turns around, “Oh- uh, of course!” Handing over his tray so she can take one of the flutes.

 _Ugh.. the things I do for a story. I am really not cut out for the service industry…_ He thinks.

“I’ll have one as well” A voice from behind reaches Akihito’s ear.

“Yes, sir, please help yourself,” Akihito says reflexively, and he turns slightly, trying to play the role of a dutiful waiter.

“Don’t mind if I do...” The baritone voice responds.

Akihito sees a hand reach for the flute of champagne, and his eyes follow up the hand to the man it belongs to. He’s greeted with an arrogant smirk and keen golden-eyes looking down at him.

Muscles stiffen, eyes widen, and he’s frozen in his spot.

_Asami? W-What is he doing here? The man looks as devilishly handsome as he always does, but somehow even more so in his black tux with velvet lapels._

“Looking for a new line of work, Takaba...let me guess...had to resort to a part-time job to support yourself?” Asami says in a playful tone.

The photographer blinks, regaining himself. His eyes narrow, indignation rising in him.

_He just insulted me, didn’t he? That bastard._

“What are you doing here?” he says disparagingly. Although he immediately regrets it, knowing what the answer is going to be.

“What do you mean? I was invited…unlike someone.” Asami says, the smile widening on his face. “I thought you might have learned your lesson about snooping from the last time…but I see things haven’t changed.”

Akihito scoffs quietly under his breath. “…Shut up,”

Asami’s about to say something sly in response, something along the lines of “no clever retort, Takaba?”, or perhaps something about Akihito being rude to patrons, and how ill-suited of a waiter he is.

But before the words can come out, he is interrupted by a business associate who wants to chit chat with Asami and who obviously doesn’t see nor seem to care about the waiter he’s engaged in conversation with.

“Asami-sama! Did you just arrive….” The man steps forward, putting an unwanted hand around the crime lord's shoulder. He starts to blab on about something, and Asami turns his head for a moment to acknowledge him.

Although Asami’s slightly annoyed at the man's interruption, that slippery photographer is bound to get away with such a good distraction. And just as he’s finishing the thought, he turns back around back to the photographer, but Akihito has already slipped away.

 _Damn_. Asami thinks as he whirls his head around, trying to look for the photographer.

 _Thank god,_ Akihito thinks as he bustles out of there and slips into the crowd. He can’t be as fast as he usually is since he’s still carrying the tray around. His heart feels like it's about to beat out his chest, and he can feel his face going red with embarrassment. How does Asami always elicit that kind of response from him?

 _Damn. Damn. Damn it all. Why is he here? Why do I always run into him?_ Akihito thinks in a huff as he walked towards the back room where the caterers are set up.

He refuses to think about the last time they met. How he was pushed against a wall..how their tongues explored each other...Akihito shivers at the thought... 

NO, no, no. He wasn't supposed to be thinking about it!! 

Here he thought he had finally gotten rid of that damn crime lord. Akihito is already planning how he’ll slip out while he still can. He doesn’t want to get mixed up with that criminal thug anymore than he already has. A part of him is also worried Asami might decide to put the hotel’s security on his ass for taking pictures and sneaking in, just to mess with him.

But as he gets to the caterer area, his “boss” appears. “Hey Takaba-Kun, Can you take out the trash?”

YES! A perfect opportunity to slip out the back. He grabs the trash bags awaiting him and heads out towards the backside. There’s a hallway that connects the back rooms and the lobby. He’s making his way down the hall when he nearly gets run over by a dark-haired man. The man is clutching on to a suitcase for dear life.

“Whoa,” Akihito says after he nearly collides with the man. But as he looks after the man, he doesn’t see the two other men coming from behind. 

He's shoved out of the way, and the photographer lands on his ass. “HEY! WATCH IT” and then immediately his mind falls to his new camera attached to his wrist, because who gives a damn about his own well being when his new camera could have gotten broken! 

“OH! MY CAMERA!?” He checks his sleeve to see if it's okay and sighs in relief when he sees its fine.

 _Why are they running like that!_ He thinks as an afterthought, once he checked his camera.

They run out the back entrance towards the parking lot. And it suddenly occurs to him that they were chasing after each other. He follows them out to the back entrance as he hears a scuffle. A fight has broken out- or at least what looks like a fight.

The two men that had shoved Akihito to the ground are haggling with the briefcase toting man. They seem to be attacking the man and pushing him down to the ground, and making a grab for the suitcase.

_A robbery!_

Akihito goes into action. He flips a switch on his camera, turning the flash on, and aims his camera at them. The flash is strong enough to shock them- disorient them for a moment.

“HEY!” He yells at the assailants. “SECURITY, OVER HERE!” He follows up and yells through the doorway so that the interior lobby can hear him.

The two men are stunned and quickly runoff through the parking lot with the briefcase.

Akihito hears some people coming down the hallway, knowing security must be on its way. He nears the dark-haired man as the two assailants make their escape, “Hey mister, are your alright?” He says.

The photographer goes to help the man who has slumped onto the floor. He hasn’t seen the dark red stain growing on the man's gut - from a knife wound.

The man’s painful tries to speak, although he’s shaking and gripping his abdomen.“Ergh… please…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asami getting interrupted while teasing his little photographer 😤😤😤😠
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated ❤️


	12. Part two, Ch. 2: Not this Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a weird dream the other night, i guess since i've been thinking a lot about Aki and Asami, but i dreamt that the end of the canon manga was coming and it was going to end with aki and asami deciding to mutual break up and i woke being so upset! (Yamane don't do it!😭😭)
> 
> anyway enjoy!! 💖

Asami kept a rigorous schedule day in and day out. The meticulously detailed schedule Kirishima kept organized for his boss was finely crafted to maximize both sides of his business operations.

It was a schedule that didn’t make time for many _distractions_. Not that Asami was the type to be easily distracted. No, he was hyper-focused, a methodical and diligent hard worker.

It was something Kirishima always admired about his boss.

Kirishima knew all of the skeletons in Asami's closets. In fact, he knew them very intimately. It was his business to know about all of them - hell, he was even the one that made sure they'd be scheduled in!

Asami’s _business_ was Kirishima’s business, too. Private or public life. Criminal empire or Business empire. All of it. It had never mattered. Those lines were often blurred and were crossed often. That's how it had always been. For the almost ten years, he had worked for the man.

Which is why the secretary could not explain what he was seeing right now, he had looked away from the boss for ten minutes, and _this_ is what happens?!

As soon as Kirishima turns his back, he finds his boss doing the exact opposite of what was on the agenda. And not only that but with none other than -

_Ta-Takaba Akihito?! How the hell had he even gotten into this event?!_

UGH. Kirishima internals groans. Never mind, Kirishima knew the answer to that. The Takaba boy might have been a rude and insolent brat, but Kirishima had to hand it to him- he was a resourceful brat at that.

There was something about the Takaba boy that made the boss act uncharacteristically. That much was very clear to Kirishima from the beginning.

At first, Kirishima thought it was nothing. Takaba Akihito was unquestionably an attractive young man. Even Kirishima had to admit the boy was a curious creature, even if he was a bit of a brat. Although the secretary couldn’t quite put his finger on why, or what it was that was so intriguing about the boy. It was a wonder Asami had waited so long to pounce on him.

Kirishima was the one that had dropped Asami off at Takaba's apartment and picked him up a few hours later that night. But after that, he thought the boss would move on as he always did. He thought Asami's interest in the Takaba boy was a purely a brief fascination, one that would fizzily away just like all the others. His interest in the boy would dry up once he had his taste.

The secretary had set up the meeting with Kisho at the clothing store because that had always been part of his job description. He always was setting up dalliances and hookups for Asami. (His boss had QUIET the appetite after all) Never _once_ had Asami ever turned anyone down. Kirishima never considered Asami to have a “taste” for a particular partner- as long as they were conveniently attractive.

Kirishima thought Kisho was perfect. He even kinda looked a bit like Takaba. 

But now as he saw his boss toting the widest of smirks, in conversation with the young blond photographer. He realized that there was no question that Asami acted differently when _that_ boy was around. It was the kind of difference that was immediately concerning to Kirishima.

A distraction. One that instantly put a furrow on the secretaries brow. It’s like he could already sense the pain in his backside that this thorn of a boy would present.

A part of him wanted to call security to have the photographer thrown out on his ass. But by the way, Asami was acting he probably shouldn’t, he thought with a sigh. Instead, the secretary watched vigilantly from afar.

He sees someone interrupting their conversation, and the boy takes the opportunity to slip away. _Oh. Thank god!_ Kirishima sighs in relief. Relieved that Akihito Takaba wouldn’t interfere with his schedule, he had planned for the boss.

But then, Kirishima gets an unexplainable sting of guilt as he sees Asami attempt to search for the photographer after the boy has already slipped away. Asami searches in vain, as the boy has already gotten to the back room, his face pink with embarrassment.

Not five minutes later, does Suoh enter the fundraiser to report that police were on their way to the hotel about some unknown incident on the hotel grounds. Apparently, some kind of mugging in the hotel’s parking lot.

An unlucky event, since Sion security precautions, dictated that Asami leave the premises. A safeguard that would prevent Asami’s name from being included in any police report and a preventative measure for simply stay away from Tokyo’s finest. (It’s a hassle having to pay someone off when you can just avoid them!).

So they swung the car around, and Kirishima went to collect the boss. Asami was not pleased with having to leave early. A Part of Kirishima worried it was because they had to leave behind a certain blond photographer, who had gotten away.

Kirishima didn't make the connection that said blond photographer was involved in the incident in the hotel parking lot….Although the secretary should have known better.

A disaster awaited them the next morning.

It was a mistake on the part of some Sion employees that the message from their inside source, Mikami, wasn’t received until the following morning.

Mikami appeared to be off the radar. The cryptic message he left detailed the existence of the USB drive filled with information from Sion servers. Although what exactly was on the drive was completely unknown. It was only known that the Baishe had sent a high-ranking lieutenant to make the trade. But Mikami intercepted it.

And now his whereabouts were unknown, and what became of the disk was an even greater mystery. The news of it all was not received well the following morning. Kirishima had to wake the boss up early to relay the news.

It would be hours later when they finally put two and two together and discovered the mugging from last night was actually Mikami, desperately trying to hand over the USB drive to Asami. The so-called mugging resulted in a non-fatal stabbing, and the “John Doe” in the hospital was Mikami.

They headed to the hospital, hoping that all was not lost. 

Though, It seemed an unavoidable reality that the disc had ended up in the hands of the enemy….

* * *

Akihito groaned into his pillow.

Why did this shit always happen to him?

Did someone _upstairs_ have it out for him?! Right after he had just finished thinking that he’ll definitely get away from Asami, this shit has to happen…

 _“Give this to a guy called Asami. He owns Club Sion in Shinjuku. He was supposed to be here today”_ That what the poor man, breathless and pained, said while bleeding from the gut. He handed Akihito a small USB drive right before the ambulance and EMS arrived.

Akihito hardily had a moment to respond or to process what had happened. The police arrived shortly thereafter, and he was questioned. He had to tell them he was a photographer since he had used his camera flash as a weapon.

Fortunately, they didn’t take his camera cause he would have been done for if he had gotten ANOTHER camera confiscated by the cops. Instead, they only took the film. Which still also screwed him over. Since he had taken all those shots of the fundraiser that he needed for the Weekly Headline. He doubted they would bother returning it.

It annoyed the hell out of him. And it was for that reason that he hadn’t told the cops about the USB in his back pocket and the message about one Asami Ryuichi.

Or at least that's what he convinced himself to believe...

He groaned into his pillow once more. It all just landed in his lap in the worst way possible.

Since the police had kept him, he wasn’t able to find Asami at the fundraiser. The man was presumably long gone.

The photographer had just arrived home, it was late, and he had finally had a moment to deliberate over everything. This was the last thing he wanted to deal with. If Asami was involved, you knew it could only be bad news.

He sat up, done moping about it. He’d have a look at the USB on his computer. Just because curiosity was getting the best of him.

Someone almost died trying to give this thing to Asami. It must have something important on it.

He plugs it into his computer. It's a massive file in terms of how much data was on it. He’s not sure his computer can handle the load. 

He doesn’t download anything and just looks idyll through the file. There’s too much for him to make sense of anything. There's a list of names for parts of it, some of them he recognizes as foreigner names. And a bunch of other things he can't possibly understand.

It would take months to shift through all the data.

He unplugs it from his computer. Already feeling like he’s probably seen too much and he’s once again playing with fire when it comes to Asami Ryuichi.

So what should he do with it…

It’s late. And so all he can do, for now, is to try to get some sleep and hope he can somehow get rid of it tomorrow morning.

He decides his only recourse is to hand the USB drive to Asami himself. Go to Club Sion and make sure it gets to Asami.

He never, and I mean never, wanted to have to step foot in that club ever again. But perhaps in broad daylight, it wouldn’t be so bad….

That guy’s _gonna be PISSED when he finds out I’m the one that has it!_

* * *

It turns out Akihito wouldn’t be able to get within 30 yards of the man.

“You don’t understand! I have important business with Asami!” The brick wall he was talking to hardily even lifted his eyes to look at him. “If he’s not here, at least tell me where I can reach him!”

Akihito was hoping if he made enough of a racket, perhaps the man himself would come downstairs to deal with him. The guard in front of Club Sion was mean and stupid looking.

 _Midori’s replacement, perhaps?_ Akihito thought. He didn’t see the two other guards, who seemed to stick to Asami like glue.

This one just glared at him, unfazed by his raised voice. He had his arms crossed and was wearing some kind of uniform.

“What about his secretary? Y’know glasses secretary, and uh- the big blond one? Are they in?” Akihito continued, growing frustrated.

He had come all the way out to Shinjuku, which didn’t cost nothing - by the way. Just so he could dump this disc on Asami. 

He wasn’t doing it out pft- some kind of misguided loyalty or something like that. pft. No, that wasn’t it at all.

That bastard deserved to have his precious little USB thrown in the trash. That's what Akihito should have done. It had nothing to do with him anyway. He was doing something NICE delivering it to him personally. And what does he get? He gets treated like an eyesore by some hulking idiot.

_Who does he think he is! Whatever! I know where that bastard lives anyway!_

“Just go and tell him I have his USB drive, and I want nothing more to do with it. He’s probably looking for!” But the man didn’t move a muscle. “Are you listening to me?!”

Instead, the guard was getting rather impatient with the tiny blonds antics. So much so that he grabbed Akihito by his jacket collar and picked him up off the ground, as if he was nothing more than a sack of potatoes, and hauls him to the sidewalk.

“GAH!” The photographer struggled, flailing his arms around.

“This is no place for children!” The man finally spoke as he dropped Akihito down on the hard pavement.

Akihito almost lost his footing and fell hard on the pavement, but he caught himself just in time. The photographer didn’t like being manhandled and certainly not for Asami’s sake.

“Okay! Okay! I’m going. But don’t blame _me_ when you get FIRED!”

“Scram mutt!” The man straightens out his posture as he looked down at Akihito, back to crossing his arms.

The guard was just begging for what Akihito did next, a knee to the groin, as fast as could be. The brick wall of a man staggered over, his eye’s bulging out of their sockets. He didn’t have time to try to grab Akihito, his hands immediately flew to his groin, and he almost keeled over in pain.

“Asshole,” Akihito said under his breath.

The photographer didn’t stick around to see him recover, or for back up to arrive, or even to give a satisfying snicker at the man’s expense.

_That’ll definitely get Asami’s attention!_

The photographer quickly turned down the street. But what he didn’t realize was that the entire affair, including his rather loud declaration of having a USB drive, was witnessed by _another_ set of eyes.

* * *

The trip to the hospital was mostly a wash. They were too late to save Mikami.

Although there was a small bit of pure luck, Asami had seen two men exiting Mikami’s room as they passed each other in the hospital hallway.

He noticed something off-putting about them. Then, of course, he recognized they were speaking Chinese to each other. A bad sign already. Then he heard the fatal beeping and nurses and doctors rushing into Mikami’s room.

"It appears we've arrived too late," Asami said, turning to Suoh.

Asami had put two and two together. The two men had just exited Mikami’s room and were rushing out of the hospital. Presumably, after having just finished off poor Mikami. He may have been too late for Mikami, but he could avenge his death.

Suoh and him turned around to pursue the pair. Suoh called into HQ and had a team get sent to the hospital to be ready to continue tailing the pair once they left. 

They heard the two of them talking, on edge and in a hurry, in Chinese about “salving the situation” and “not having the disc.”

It was all fairly sloppy - on their part, at least. The two men were picked up, thrown in a van not four blocks from the hospital.

A few hours later, in one of Asami’s warehouses and Suoh with a bat was all Asami needed to find out what he wanted to know.

The two men were part of the small subgroup that worked and facilitated deals for the Baishe in Japan- the same group that Mikami had worked for. 

Asami learns more about Hano's deal, the former right-hand man of the Osaka-based Tanaka clan. The USB drive with a sizable chunk of Sion servers downloaded on to them, obtained by the traitor and former head of security at Club Sion, Midori.

He learned of the deal made with the Baishe in exchange for cash. The Baishe Lieutenant who had traveled to Japan just to facilitate the transaction.

Mikami’s heroically stealing the USB drive. The stabbing and robbery in the hotel parking lot, and the failed attempt to get USB back.

“What did Mikami say about where the USB drive is now?” Asami said voice firm, and tepid.

He sat in a leather chair in the warehouse, looking at the bloody mess that was these two wannabe Baishe members. One of them speaks. The smart one, the one who had been talking all afternoon and knew what was good for him.

“H-he didn’t say much. We swear,” the man begs, tears already welling in his eyes. He had taken a beating, probably had a broken rib, and a broken leg that was looking like it hurt right about now. Although his friend, the pigheaded one, was in much worse of a state. "He just said h-he gave it to a member of the hotel staff. P-please. T-That's all we know.”

“A hotel staff?” Asami repeated, puzzled. 

The words made Kirishima’s gut churn. The secretary, who was standing behind Asami, brought a hand to his forehead in uneasiness. A light bulb suddenly turning on in his brain.

It wasn’t just the memory of that blond photographer dressed as a “hotel staff” at last night’s fundraiser. It was the disturbing report he got a few hours ago, just before their little torture session, that the Takaba boy was causing a scene outside of Club Sion. The boy had apparently demanded to speak to Asami. The security had neglected to tell the boss. Figuring the boy was just a nuisance, and they had more pressing matters to attend to.

But now it was all clicking inside his head.

_Oh god. Not this again..._

* * *

Akihito ran some errands after the diabolical that was his attempted to visit Sion. But he was over it now. He had gotten rid of that disc and washed his hands of the whole affair.

That would surely be the last time he ever gets involved with Asami Ryuichi.

Akihito’s on his way back to his apartment when a luxury sedan pulls up on the side of the road—honking twice at him.

“Sir!” A dark-haired man in a suit exits the car and steps around the vehicle to the sidewalk. “We’ve been searching for you. I apologize for the way our security staff treated you earlier. The boss is waiting to speak with you. Please get in. I’ll take you straight to him.”

Akihito's a little taken aback. _Asami’s men?_ He was mildly pleased he was getting an apology for their rudeness from before.

_Oh, I see. Now I am getting the luxury treatment now that he knows I have the USB drive. Ha!_

Although it makes no difference to him, he wants nothing to do with it. “Thanks. But, No thanks. I’ve already dealt with that.” He turns to continue on his way.

“I-I must insist. I've been instructed to take you to him.” The man persistently follows him.

“Forget about it. I’m not getting involved.” The photographer is certainly not in the mood to talk to Asami.

“The boss requires your presence, sir, please.”

“Pft…Well, then he can just walk his ass over to see me and complain if he has something else to say.”

“You must forgive me, but we have a short time frame.” The guard continues to pester.

Something suddenly didn’t feel right to Akihito.

Was it the fact, the man was apologizing too much? Or the fact he was calling Akihito “sir”? He was acting simultaneously overly polite but also overly pushy about getting into the car.

He didn’t seem at all like Asami’s other goons, the ones that were extremely rude to him. Why did he keep saying “boss” instead of Asami, and he never even called Akihito by name…

Akihito turns around, eyes narrow as he looks the man up and down. “Are you really one of Asami’s goons…?”

The man's expression took a grim twist. "Mei Ban Fa" (You leave me no choice)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kirishima: Not this again 😩
> 
> Asami: YES THIS AGAIN 😁


	13. Part two, Ch.3: Keys to the Kingdom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy hell I know it's been a while, but i get so distracted 😩
> 
> have no idea when street rat will be updated. I'm working at a snail's pace but I'll try!
> 
> anywayy enjoy ❤️

“Ho-Ho. The boys quite a lively one.” A fat, bald man with round glasses spoke in a language that Akihito could not recognize.

“He’s got a bit of a temper, so I suggest you keep your distance.” That was said by the guy who had chloroformed Akihito from behind and threw him in a van, again in a language he couldn’t quite make out.

“Damn it! What the hell? Who are you guys?! Let me go!?” Akihito's arms were above his headin some kind of medieval-looking wooden handcuffs hanging from the ceiling. He was raised just high enough that his feet couldn’t quite touch the ground.

 _Dammit. What are they saying? It’s not Japanese, and where is this place?_ The room he was in now looked like some storeroom.

“Where is the USB? That was our property, and we’ll have it returned to us at once.” The fat man spoke, this time in Japanese.

“I already told you. I don’t know anything about it!” Akihito quickly responds.

The fat man brandishes a small flogging whip that he had hidden behind his back this entire time. At first, it doesn’t seem that intimidating, like something out of a sex toy shop.

But It certainly didn't feel like nothing.

The whip cracks in a loud boom that fills the storeroom, as the whip slaps him in the face. The force slices a small cut just above Akihito's eye.

“Ahh” He cries at the sharp pain. He can feel a small gash above his eyes and droplets of blood dripping down the side of his face.

 _Shit! Is this the Chinese mafia?_ Akihito can feel his heart rate increase 10x fold as shock and fear overrun him. 

“We know a man gave you a USB drive at the hotel last night. Data we stole was stolen in return. You can see how this looks bad. Yes? We will get that drive back. Don’t try anything funny. Just tell us where the USB is, and you _might_ get out of this alive!” The fat man spews.

Akihito’s been in this situation before. It almost reminds him of being trapped in Asami’s club. But it feels much worse than that. Even when Asami interrogated him, he had never used a weapon like this- a torture device.

“Alright, fine. I-I was given the disk. But I don’t have it anymore. I couldn’t meet with the guy it was for, so I threw it away.”

He receives another slap of the whip, but this time it’s on his back.

“You LIE!” That fat man yells.

“No! Listen!” Akihito howls out. A stinging pain shoots up his back. He thinks it's already starting to cut through his shirt. “I-I knew it was too dangerous to hold onto. I don’t have it anymore- I swear!”

“Given that you're Asami’s lackey…I’m afraid I can’t believe you so easily.” The fat man rubs his chin as if considering what Akihito is saying.

“H-hey! Who’re you calling that bastards lackey? I don’t work for him!” Akihito tries. He gets admittedly riled up that these goons think he works for Asami. “You have the wrong guy. I don’t have it anymore. It’s gone, please- please just let me go!”

“Hmmm… Perhaps we should beat it out of you, eh?” The fat man says, touting an evil grin.

The whip cracks again, and it falls on his back as fast as lightning. The pain is sharp and piercing, and he bits down and groans in pain.

He can feel his shirt starting to tear. While the pressure on his wrist from the wooden block dig into him, likely causing some bruising and cuts there. The whip is cleaved at him again before he has a chance to recover, and he feels it rip the skin on his back. He cries again and yells out.

“Hmm…how about now, eh? What did you do with the disc?” The Chinese man continues his interrogation. His eyes have a cruel glint in them, and Akihito knows he’s in deep trouble.

They’ll only kill him if they find out where it really went. So his only chance is to lie.

“I-I threw it out!” Akihito yells.

The whip falls down on him hard this time, and he grits his teeth. His back is throbbing now, and blood seeps down his back and bloodies his pants. His ears are ringing, and he feels nauseous and lightheaded.

The fat man seems insulted that Akihito didn’t yell out in pain at his most recent lashing. So he lashes out even harsher.

“AH!” Akihito cries again. His breath turns into hyperventilation as the torture is taking its toll on him.

The pain is too great to handle, and he feels himself slipping away. He gets another lash to the back, and that's all he can take. He slumps into the wooden block, which is now the only thing holding him up. His view goes black, and he slips into unconsciousness from the shock of it.

* * *

“Takaba Akihito?” Asami's expression was blank, “You're telling me… Takaba Akihito has it.”

He had turned to his secretary, and although his expression was blank, his eyes had given him away. His golden eyes were ablaze, ruminating over everything he had just heard as if you could see the gears in his mind working overtime calculating and strategizing.

The crime lords mind couldn’t help but assume the worse - it’s what he expects. Takaba, the photojournalist, the young man who had said himself and I quote; “When I catch your ass, it’s gonna be plastered across the front page,”

If the disc were indeed in his possession, then he’d have everything he'd need to do just that.

Could Asami even call it a betrayal, since the boy had made his intention very clear from the start? But for some reason, the thought of Akihito using the disc against Asami initially stung at Asami's pride and ached in his chest. But then it gave way to the blistering heat of his blood boiling over.

What had possessed him to take such a risk in letting that boy close to him? Was he losing his touch? Was his entire empire real about to be put at risk by some 20 something-year-old photographer! Because Asami couldn’t keep it in his fucking pants!

No, absolutely not. Asami was certainly not afraid of what Takaba could do.

Asami Ryuichi gave as good as he got, and when he got his hand on that little punk brat -

“Sir, he came to Club Sion earlier today…” Kirishima rubs his temples,“…He was causing a scene outside the Club. I believe he wanted to talk to you. I-I should have put it together, he was there last night, and potential knew something- I’m sorry, sir.”

_He went to Club Sion? Why would he -_

If Akihito had gone to Sion, that could only mean _one thing_. He must have gone to give the USB back… _Right?!_

It was the only thing that made sense.

Asami feels slightly better at the thought. It made sense. He wouldn’t have gone to Sion for any other reason.

If he were planning on exposing Asami, he definitely wouldn’t have come near Sion. Even if he wanted something else, like to be paid off or to use the disc as blackmail or something like that- then he certainly wouldn’t have gone into the belly of the beast like that. (At least not again!)

Asami digs in his pocket for his cellphone and dials Takaba’s number. He doesn’t have the number saved on his phone because that would mean something…But he does have the number memorized…just in case. Although he told himself it’s not that hard to memorize a phone number.

The line goes right to voicemail- it’s turned off. Not a great sign.

He starts barking off orders to Kirishima and waltzing towards the exit. “Send someone to his flat and bring him to me - tell them to stuff him in a van if they have to… if he has the disc, then Takaba must have somehow been involved in the hotel's stabbing last night. Suoh - ” He turns on his heels and addresses the large blond guard, “- keep these two kept alive and find out where their hideout is,”

They get into a car waiting outside the warehouse, and Kirishima makes a phone call to get the footage of Akihito outside Sion to be sent directly to Asami. The secretary is also working on getting the police report from the stabbing. Something they had been trying to get all evening since it might answer some questions.

The Sion footage is sent to Asami immediately, but the police report will likely take a little bit longer to get.

The footage of Akihito outside of Sion doesn’t completely clear the boy of wrongdoing. Since the audio didn't completely get picked up, all that it makes clear is Akihito’s obstinate yelling and even kicking the poor bouncer in the groin.

But the more Asami thought with a clear head about it. The more he didn’t believe that Akihito would use the disc against him.

Or was that just a hopeful part of him that believed that?

Anyone else would have used this opportunity to gain something. Although Takaba Akihito was _not just anyone_.

Anyone else would use it for a paycheck. God knows that boy could use some money. But no. It wasn’t his style to ask for money. He was too proud.

Someone else would _try_ a bit of blackmail? Far to bold a move for Takaba.

The photographer had obviously not given the disc to the police, or else it would have been in the police report, and they would have known about it sooner.

Now…use the disc to expose Asami and get his ticket to becoming a serious journalist?

Possibly…but even so... it somehow didn’t fit. Why go to Sion? Why demand to speak to Asami? No. It made more sense that he had gone to Club Sion because he didn’t want anything to do with it.

Asami rubbed his temples and shook his head in disbelief. But he couldn’t help that small little grin forming on his lips. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it was just _such_ a Takaba thing to do.

Of course, he’d be handed the keys to the kingdom, in the form of a USB drive. One that anyone else would have used for their own selfish advantage. It would even make all his dreams of becoming a serious journalist come true - But only _he_ would completely brush it aside and refuse to use it.

Asami could half imagine Takaba being stubborn and saying something like; “If I am gonna take down Asami Ryuichi, I am gonna do it on my own terms,”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, imagining Akihito’s indignant yet determined face.

After all his protest. After all, his complaining, his bluster, and bravado. When given the opportunity to betray Asami and get precisely what he's always wanted- What he said he would do. He doesn’t do it...or maybe he _couldn't_ do it...

_Why? Just why would he do that…._

On the way back to the office, Kirishima puts the partition down to speak to Asami;

“Sir, The bouncer remembers Takaba mention a USB drive. He definitely has it. There’s one more thing… While the security was rewatching some of the security feed. They notice a car outside of Club Sion….an unmarked car, sir…Could have been the Baishe watching for some activity? After Takaba made such a scene in front of Sion, he might have gotten spotted. We also heard back from one of our men. He’s not at his flat.”

Asami rubs his chin. “So the Baishe were watching outside the club….and they no doubt heard Takaba yelling about having a USB drive. His phones off. He’s not at his flat - They’ve taken him and the USB drive, haven’t they?”

There's a pause. “It seems likely, sir.”

Asami sighs. “Search the flat. The USB could still be there. And get a man stationed outside in case he comes back, and let’s make sure he's not at some other job or something. We should also get a surveillance team on the Baishe hideout- I want to know what their movements are, so we can intervene and steal the USB drive back before it gets out of the country.”

They get back to the office, and it seems inevitable. Akihito’s missing, and so is the USB. The Baishe must have both, and Asami is in a grim mood.

But he can't do anything much about it now.

The very existence of the USB was a failure on multiple fronts. Midori, the former head of security at Club Sion, should have never had access to download anything. To have been able to download so much data, he must have used Yoshida’s access codes- but even then, it shouldn’t have happened. Or at least the alarm should have been rung about it earlier.

And that meant - Sion needed some cleaning up.

People needed to be fired for incompetence, protocols need to be re-written, and security needed to be tightened overall.

And since he was feeling _particularly_ ruthless - clean up, he did. It was probably some leftover clean up from the failed coup - lapses and errors in jobs that had potential slipped.

A few people would probably receive a bullet to the head, as it seemed there were potential more traitors in their midst. Most of them were low-level employees, desk jockeys, and IT workers that both Yoshida and Midori had paid off to mitigate or even hide their breach of protocols.

Tanaka’s right-hand man, Hano, who had sold the disk to the Baishe in the first place, also needed to be located, but that would likely take some time.

It kept Asami busy for a few hours as he waited for any news to come in. The evening was starting to roll around. The longer Akihito was missing, the worse their chances were at recovering the disc.

Kirishima came into the office with news about two hours later; “Sir, we’ve checked out a few of those potential Baishe hideouts. One place seems a particular hotspot right now.”

“Is there any evidence that’s where Akihito is?”

“It's hard to tell,” Kirishima said frankly. “We believe there could be a lot of men in there right now. A head-on confrontation would be… dangerous. Our best bet is to wait until they're on the move and cut them off from their men. Then we can retrieve the USB before it leaves the country.”

Kirishima was right. The best way to prevent casualties on their side was to divide and conquer. But, to wait until after they’ve already moved out of the warehouse- It was a death sentence for Takaba.

But to rescue him... it would require a head-on confrontation, which would be a considerable risk. A risk he couldn’t ask his men to make. But more than that… Why should he?

This wasn’t someone like Suoh or Kirishima in trouble or even his long time ally Kuroda. People he had known for more than a decade, ones that were trusted associates and that he had worked alongside for years.

This was the bratty kid who was constantly getting in his crosshairs and causing trouble for him and his business. Sure, he had recused him that one time in the warehouse. But that was hardly a rescue - it was more to simply guarantee that nobody got away and find out what he knew about the clans. This was an entirely different situation.

And sure, he had slept with Takaba. But only once. Imagine if Asami expanded these kinds of resources to everyone he had ever bedded…it would be ridiculously unreasonable.

There was absolutely _zero value_ in rescuing Takaba Akihito.

So why did Asami want to do it so badly…

Did Asami feel a sense of responsibility? Akihito had gotten tangled up in this in the first place, and now his life was in danger, and it was partially Asami’s own fault.

The photographer had even tried to do that right thing and give the USB back. He was probably in there right now, getting tortured for the USB drives location. That, on its own, was a disturbing thought.

But, if Takaba was unfortunate enough to have the drive on him when he was taken, then he was probably as good as dead already. And well, that thought was really making Asami seeing red.

But what could he do…the priority had to be getting the disc back… _Right?_ …

The pause he took to collect his thoughts did not go unnoticed by his secretary. “Sir?”

Asami’s taken out of his thoughts, and he looks up at his secretary. “Yes. Let’s proceed with that,” the way he says it is so unconvincing, and he knows he must seem out of it.

“Sir. We can leave a few men outside the warehouse to go in as soon as they leave to check for Takaba.” Kirishima said it as if known precisely what was on Asami’s mind. Scratch that, it’s not an ‘if.’ The secretary did _know exactly_ what was on Asami’s mind.

He was suggesting a half-baked rescue attempt. They’d have to hope the Baishe hadn’t finished the job, and they’d be able to swoop in at the last moment. Chances were low, but it was better than nothing.

Asami looks at his secretary. Kirishima looked concerned, his brow furrowed, and the line of his mouth was straight and severe. Was he worried that Asami was _even_ grappling with this decision, a decision he would usually not think twice about? Or was he concerned because he _knew exactly_ how this decision would weigh on him?

Asami rubs his chin and looks away from his secretary when he answers, “Yes.”

He gets up from his chair eventually and starts to walk out of his office. There was much to prepare. As he made his exit, his mind tried to convince him of all the reasons why he needed to stay on course.

_He’s a nuisance. He doesn’t even like you. He’s a magnet for trouble. I can’t possibly rescue him every time he gets himself wrapped up in trouble. It was just that one time, one time that should have probably never happened. I can’t put his life over the lives of my men. He doesn’t mean anythi -_

As he’s exiting his office, Asami notices something. He’s not sure what it is about it that catches his eyes, but it just does. Kirishima's and Suoh’s desk flank either side of the double door entrance to his office. And just now, the mail clerk is carting in a large tray of mail, which he'll put on top of Kirishima’s desk.

Asami mail, even his personal mail, first goes through his secretary. So the sight of a stack of envelopes shouldn’t be odd, except there's one that seems to stick out compared to the others. It's a small and battered padded envelope. Probably a reused envelope that's mixed between all the perfectly pressed business envelopes.

It merely calls to him. He stops following Kirishima and pauses to look at it. The poor mail clerk, who has probably never been this near to the CEO before, awkwardly puts the tray down in front of him on Kirishima’s desk.

Asami digs out the little envelope. It has a slight weight to it and a bump in the corner that feels like a certain familiar object. He flips it around and sees a name written in horrible handwriting.

Takaba Akihito.

_Ah. Fuck it._

* * *

Akihito wakes to the sound of some kind of scuffle happening outside. It jolts him awake with a gasp, and his chains jiggle and his breath pants. His whole body is aching, with the bulk of the throbbing pain centering on his back.

His eyes are wide open though they feel heavy. He’s still coming to, and he feels in pretty bad shape as if he can hardly move. His head is still in a fog. But his heart is pounding like crazy in his chest, pumping with a lot of adrenaline- which should be dulling some of the pain.

He looks around his surroundings, and there are only a few hanging lightbulbs in the room. But no one else is here anymore.

Akihito looks at his own condition. His shirt is almost wholly ripped off, and it seems he got whipped even after he fell unconscious. His wrists are bruised and red from the wooden block that is holding him upright. Obviously, he can't see what his back looks like, but if the pain is any indication- he's pretty battered.

 _How long have I been out?_ He wonders. Probably only a few hours as there doesn’t seem to be _that much_ blood. He probably just passed out from the shock.

He looks up at the contraption of hooks and chains that are holding him up. He needs to escape, and soon while he’s still pumping with adrenaline.

He’s not sure how it escalated to this. How did they know so much? How cruel could they be to torture him like this?…

He didn’t have the USB anymore. That should have been obvious. But it seems like the torture was just for that horrible fat man's entertainment.

He pulls himself together, resolving himself to mount an escape. Hopefully, he can try to figure out a way to get himself out of this. The wooden block is bolted shut with some kind of metal rod- at least it's not a padlock. But, perhaps this is something he can escape from.

Fortunately, his wrists are skinny enough that there's enough slack for his hands to slip through and reach the rod holding the lock together. But there's not enough to pull it out completely. He twists his arms around and hops on his legs to slowly inch the rod out of place.

He’s slowly making progress on the bolt, although it’s hard with shaking hands. But while he's working on it, he hears more of a commotion happening outside and this time popping sounds in the distance. He recognizes it as gunfire. It only heightens his fears and forces him to work harder and faster. After enough fussing and twisting, he’s able to dislodge it, and his wrists get free.

That was a fair bit of luck. But Akihito imagines this storeroom or whatever it is, will probably be crawling with whatever Chinese gang this is. He’s already out of breath and feeling ragged, while his head is getting cloudier, and he sees double. He’s not sure if his usual escape plan of just bolting is really going to have an effect here. Especially since he imagines he won't be able to run at all. But it’s the only thing he has left.

He goes to the door and puts his ear to it, praying that he hears nothing on the other side. He swings the door open when he doesn’t hear anything. It's just an empty room with nothing but a few fold-out chairs and a table with the remains of some kind of card game on it.

He picks a door, and it leads to a brightly lit kitchen. The fluorescent lights are blinding him, but he manages to continue hobbling through, searching for an exit. It looks like he is in the back of a Chinese restaurant. Except it’s empty and the place is a mess, it seems like people left in a hurry.

He hears some more popping noising in the distance- it could be closer, but he’s not sure. His mind is too muddled. He's only thinking of one foot in front of the other to worry about such things at gunfire in the distance. But as he walks through the kitchen, he finds he’s not alone. 

The man is either dead or knocked out. He doesn’t want to get too close to finding out. He’s huddled on the ground gripping some kind of wound on his gut and not moving. It looks like the man who had shoved him into the car earlier. He really doesn’t want to approach, and he continues on ignoring the man on the ground.

Akihito's gripping on to the wall for support as each step is a labor. He finds himself falling over and gripping the wall for as much support as can be. He can’t bring himself to stand anymore as the world around him gets fuzzy. His knees are starting to give way when the door loudly swings opens from where he had just exited.

 _Ohh, I am screwed._ Is all he can think.

He's helpless to do anything about it because he’s falling over, his vision is blurring, and his head is spinning.

He only feels a strong arm pulling him up by his forearm, then hold him against the wall. They must be saying something, and it might as well be Chinese because he can't make anything out.

Akihito is shaken up, and a hand gently slaps his cheek, trying to wake him. He finally hears a baritone voice talking, and it’s not in Chinese;

“Oi! Rise and shine. We’re leaving”

_Eh?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> always thought that scene of Asami getting the drive in the mail, which is only like two panels in the OG manga, was super important.  
> like a proxy of Akihito feelings that Asami can't just toss aside.
> 
> I also found it really funny that Asami's so sassy and rude to akihito when he find him in canon- he's litterally like "I'm busy, get up!" - and its like i know your not busy asami!! I know! because u sleep with Akihito right after this!! Dont u lie! - LOL 😂 he has to put on such a front of like 'i dont care' when we know he does..


	14. Part two, Ch.4: Kindly Invited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so a kinda long chapter to make up for the fact i'm so freakin behind 😭
> 
> I've read this chapter over and over as much as possible but each time i found more mistakes, so please let me know if u see typo and mistakes. because at this rate i just wanted to post it, so excuse me for mistakes 😅
> 
> hope everyone is staying safe 😊
> 
> Something very funny and also horrifying happen to me this week. i share my icloud account with my dad, and something happened this week where i got all of his files and he got all of mine- and i was HORRIFIED because all my fic's are saved on my icloud and so now i am like scared that he's reading them and snooping 😭😭😭. He was trying to help and sent me an email with a few of my files that were recent things, because he thought i didnt have access to them but i did. including this fic and i was like oh nooooeeess. I dont think he will but i am just like omg imagine him like - opening Street Rat with that VERY graphic opening sex scene 😭

“Where’s the blond?” Asami digs the barrel of his Beretta into a fat Chinese man’s temple. He doesn’t have the patience right now to deal with scum like him.

There's no one else around at the Baishe headquarters *cough cough* former Baishe headquarters. It just simply wasn’t as highly guarded as Asami’s men had led him to believe. He probably would have been able to clear it out, on his own, fairly quickly. But Kirishima and Suoh insisted they tag along. 

However, the two were are clearly not happy about it.

But, they are met with little resistance inside the building—most of the people inside were just civilians who fled once the gunshots rang out.

Suoh and Asami clear each room together, watching each other's backs. While Kirishima maned the car for a quick getaway, covering the exit points. It was the old-school trio, back at it again. It's a bit nostalgic for Asami, who nowadays has a whole team of men usually behind him. This time, he hadn't wanted to put any of his own men at risk for his own personal reasons.

There ended up being only four hostel men, total who were armed with firearms. While three more were armed with other weapons. And none of them had very good aim or any experience. 

They all got neutralized relatively quickly, and he didn't think he had killed anyone in the process. Injuries looked non-life-threatening. 

But this pathetic husk of a man, in front of Asami now, hid behind his two guards. They had exchanged fire with Asami and Suoh. But they were ultimately no match, especially when Asami surprised them with a flanking position.

The bald man begs to be spared. He says he'll lead them to the blond. He makes a point to say that the USB drive was not recovered and that Akihito had claimed to have thrown it out. He leads both Suoh and Asami into a back room. 

An empty back room that is. 

The 'proud' Chinese boss falls on his knees when he sees that the room is empty, and the blond Asami is looking for was no longer in their custody. 

“I-I swear he was here a moment ago!” He cries. "We didn't move him!"

It certainly looks like someone was here, but not anymore. The chain dangling from the wall has been tampered with, and the door was open when they arrived.

Asami sighs. He should have probably guessed that Akihito couldn’t sit patiently and let Asami do the rescuing.

“I believe you,” Asami says to the bald man. 

However, he had already seen the bloodied whip and the tattered and bloodstained shirt on the floor. He recognized the shirt. He saw it from the security footage from Club Sion when Akihito talked to the bouncer outside.

It fills him with rage, and he’s not so forgiving.

*BANG*

* * *

“Takaba, wake up!”

The blond, fortunately, hadn’t gotten far. Akihito is practically tripping over himself when Asami finds him. He's in a stupor on the cusp of slipping into unconsciousness from the shock and pain of the torture he’s endured.

Akihito opens his eyes upon hearing his name, his vision is a blur, but he makes out golden eyes staring at him. 

“Huhhh?” He’s so out of it, his brains not fully realizing what it is he is seeing.

“Can you stand?” 

Akihito blinks. He narrows his eyes so that they’ll focus, and he finally sees Asami clearly in front of him. “..Sami..?” he says wearily.

“I said, can you stand, Takaba?” Asami says more ardently. He pushes the photographer against the wall to keep him upright while he removes his suit jacket.

Akihito’s eyes widen. He’s finally processed it. “W-what ar- how are - what the hell are you doing here?!” He struggles to stammer out. He's out of breath and confused.

“Glad to see you seem perfectly fine.” Asami retorts sarcastically, and his suit jacket plops on Akihito’s shoulders without much ceremony. It’s oversized, and it dwarfs the petite blond, but at least it covers the gashes on his back.

Akihito narrows his eyes in annoyance. He wants to come up with another snarky rebuke. But his brain is too fried to process a good comeback. He also is suddenly reminded of an _important_ little side note. He blurts out; 

“Asami- wait. W-we have to get out of here. I heard GUNSHOTS,” He says, his voice winded but almost hysterical. He’s clearly a bit delirious, but his fear is genuine.

He doesn’t see how Asami avoids eye contact, but he does notice the awkward silence. And it suddenly dawns on him. It clicks in his brain, and he stumbles back and gasps. 

“YOU! I-It was _you_ wasn’t it!!”

Asami doesn’t answer. Instead, he leans down and scoops Akihito up, and throws the blond over his shoulder. It's clear to him that Akihito can hardly stand, let alone walk out of here. They have to leave now despite his protest.

The photographer only gasps. He’s truthful, too exhausted to fight. So he can only muster a soft “Hey!” and “Put me down!”. 

Asami obviously doesn’t listen to the blond and heads for the exit.

Kirishima’s already pulled up to the back alleyway. He warns them that the police have been called in.

Akihito attempt to protest again, as Asami places him down as they near the limo. 

“I-I don’t need a killer to take me home. I-I’ll get there by myself…” his voice trails off in his faintness.

“Yeah, Yeah. What are you going to do? Ride the train home looking like that?” Asami indulges him. Although he's shoving the boy into the car with a sweeping motion. 

“I’ll WALK HOME,” Akihito says with the rest of his strength, but Asami closes the door to the limo in Akihito’s face just as he’s finishing his objections.

For a young man on the verge of passing out, he sure complains a lot...

“Should we take him to the hospital, sir,” Suoh asks as he's about steps into the front seat of the limo.

Asami thinks on it for a moment. “No. We’ll take him back to the apartment…”

Asami pretends not to see the face Suoh makes- as _nobody_ ever goes to Asami’s apartment.

He walks to the other side of the limo and climbs in. Akihito has already passed out in the back seat. 

Asami sighs. He was often dealing with an unconscious Takaba, wasn't he...

He nudges the boy a bit closer to him so that Akihito's head is resting on his lap. He sweeps a hand over flushed looking cheeks.

* * *

Akihito's eyes flicker open, and he groans into the pillow almost instinctively.

It wasn’t exactly the pain he was feeling. It was more the stiffness of it all. The feeling that if you move an inch, you knew it would sting like hell. He's not planning on moving a muscle anyway since it ached well enough on its own.

His back felt sore and inflamed. Akihito feels the bandages uncomfortably wrapped tightly around him. He’s not wearing a shirt, and he’s in nothing but his boxers.

He’s groggy as fuck. 

His eyes are struggling to stay open, and his head is pounding. He’s about to lift his head to look around when he feels the bed sinking next to him.

“Takaba?” A baritone voice hits his ears, and he feels a hand ruffling his blond hair.

What had happened last night comes flooding back to him. 

The USB. Getting kidnapped and flogged by a group of Chinese devils. Asami was there and carried him out.

He lifts his head and looks up to Asami. The older man is looking down at Akihito. There's a look on his face that Akihito wouldn’t call a "concerned face" or a "worried face." As Akihito believes, ‘concern’ and ‘worry’ are not in Asami's repertoire of facial expressions. He looks more curious than anything else. His expression is flat, but his golden eyes look up and down, studying Akihito. 

Akihito looks around the room he's in. Ignoring Asami intense eye contact, for now. The room he’s in now is bright and airy. He’s in a twin size bed in the corner, and there's a tasteful cream-colored armchair in the other corner. There are tubes in his arm that lead up to a metal pole with two IV fluids.

It has a feel like a hospital room except much nicer. He’s able to roll over to his side, although it stings to do so.

“Sami...- t-this is really the nicest hospital room I’ve ever been in...” He tiredly blurts out. It's all he can think to say, after several awkward moments of silence while Akihito adjusted to his strange environment- and y'know feeling like absolute shit.

He’s certainly still a bit out of it. But he just assumes he’s in a hospital. Due to the muted hospital feel in this room, the professional-looking medical equipment he sees nearby and attached to him. He is only concluding that Asami is rich and so Akihito gets to stay in a fancy hospital room.

Asami doesn’t respond right away. “You're not in a hospital room, Takaba. This is my guest room.”

Akihito looks around once more. 

_His guest room…?? What kind of guest room is like this?_

“Nevermind," He says wearily, and he slumps back into the pillow. "I actually hate it..." his voice trails off.

He only hears Asami scoffing, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“How many stitches?” He asks bluntly. He doesn't even look up to golden eyes that he feels are still scrutinizing him. 

Now that he thinks about it, he’s suddenly having a vague memory of waking up in a haze last night. And glasses' secretary was stitching up his back, and a baritone voice tells him to shut up and go to sleep.

“Eight. Most of them weren’t deep.” Asami responds.

Akihito sighs. It wasn’t a bad prognosis.

“...Does that mean I can go home…” Akihito questions.

Frankly, he finds it endless strange that Asami would take him back to his home. Or, in fact, that Asami would even come to his aid at all.

He doesn’t want to have to stick around longer than necessary. But he knows he feels like shit, and he probably looks even worse…Even now, he's practically falling right back to sleep again. He doesn't even open his eyes again, but it's more that he simply too groggy too.

But he feels Asami sweep a gentle thumb across his jawline. “Not until you’re better. Now, go back to sleep.”

He says it in such a soft, gentle way. That Akihito can’t possibly argue with it. But perhaps he had already drifted off into dreamland...

* * *

Akihito’s not sure for how long he slept. All he knows is that it’s dark outside when he opens his eyes again, and the room is pitch black.

He yawns and stretches his legs and arms. He’s feeling much better than earlier.

When he moves, it's a struggle, but it's not as unbearable as earlier. The pain is dull and achy, and he, fortunately, doesn't feel as groggy as before.

Although his mouth feels super dry, water would be nice. But the food would be even better.

He gives himself a moment for his eyes to adjust before he finds the lamp on the bedside table and switches on a light. Fortunately, there's a glass of water on the bedside table awaiting him. He sits up, resting his back on some pillows. While he swings down the glass of water.

Once he is more awake, Akihito finally takes a moment to take in all thats happened. He sighs.

_Why do I always find myself in trouble, and why does that trouble always lead me back to Asami…_

He thinks about it. Perhaps it was because Asami was such a _big and dangerous criminal_ that everything in this city really does just leads back to him…

But that also didn’t explain why Asami had come at all, nor what he was doing here now…

 _Thats right… he did_ \- Akihito didn’t like to use the word “rescue” because that seemed to imply something decent about Asami that Akihito was not ready to admit - _Help me that one time…_

He had already convinced himself that Asami only interfered when it benefitted himself.

That time at the docks a few weeks ago, which he's thinking about now, could only be described as Asami merely wanting to make sure Yamazaki had got his just deserts. Akihito only happened to be there and benefitted from Asami “coming to the rescue” - or rather the “not rescue.”

_In FACT! If anyone was doing the rescuing, it was actually me. He would have been the one-shot if it hadn’t been for ME butting in. I was the one who called out and told Asami that Yamazaki was behind him. And on that note- I was also the one that exposed a whole group of traitors in his own organization and a bunch of others that were trying to take over and probably plotting to kill him._

_Do I get a thanks!? No. Do I get my camera’s back? Nooo._

_No, instead, he has his goons following me around for weeks. And then he comes to my apartment and fucks me instead-_

Akihito halts at that thought. He feels his cheeks flush at the sudden memory that he had spent so long trying to erase from his mind.

He shakes his head- to rid himself of that sudden thought and goes back to focusing on the matter at hand.

_This time, Asami had intervened because of that damn USB drive. And that was IT._

It was nothing but more selfish reasoning… self-preservation. Asami thought Akihito had the disc, and he wasn’t about to allow it to fall into the hands of what was clearly some rival Chinese gang.

And somehow. Akihito found himself RIGHT in the middle of it all! 

_Yeah, that must be what happened..._

It was only pure luck that Akihito was saved. A fluke. A fluke he was certainly grateful for. As he didn’t want to picture a world in which he wasn’t rescued. He’d probably be in a lot of pain and potential either enduring more torture or be dead.

In his mind, Asami had only accidentally done somethings right in his quest to look after himself. And even that was a rather forgiving interpretation of the truth.

For one, he had rescued Akihito. But that was to get the disc back? And to snuff out some kind of rival Chinese gang?

Secondly, he had brought Akihito to his house and stitching him up, and let him sleep there. But hadn’t he done that because taking Akihito to the hospital would cause a lot of questions and problems he was likely looking to avoid?

Akihito wasn't about to hand him some kind of gold star for doing the _bare minimum_ of what was right...

AND even then- everything with Asami came with a cost.

Asami had gotten into the building to rescue him, but he had probably shot some people in the process. 

But thats just who Asami was. This is what he did for a living... A lethal and ruthless crime lord. 

He certainly didn't want to dwell on that thought. And he's lucky that he doesn't. Since Akihito’s stomach growls and he’s reminded suddenly of how hungry he is. It was already night time, and he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. He wanted to venture out and find some food, but he also didn’t want to accidentally run into Asami.

But man, he was buzzing to eat something. He knew if he ate, it would make him feel instantly better- maybe even so much better that he could leave.

_One can dream, can't they?_

The clock says it’s a little after 8 o’clock, and something was telling Akihito that no way Asami was home.

There was the issues with what to do with his IV bag. He didn’t really like the idea of unhooking himself from them. Although they're often ripped away in movies, for dramatic effect - it’s really something you shouldn’t do!

Plus, he knew enough to realize he was probably in need of whatever it was in those fluid bags. A basics IV drip and some morphine, probably? If he was still in pain while being hooked up all day to them. It probably meant he’d be much worse shape without them.

Soooo that was how he found himself dragging along the whole damn pole with his IV fluids and morphine along a long hallway.

He had found an oversized grey cotton shirt in the guest room that he had put on, but he was in nothing else but his boxers. When he had left the room, he slowly peaked out and found himself in a long hallway with lots of doors. He could tell immediately this must be a huge apartment, just from the size of the hallway. But, he should have guessed that given the size of the so-called “guest room." It was bigger than his bedroom at his own apartment and had a killer view to boot.

 _In Tokyo, only rich people have the luxury of a hallway like this!_ He thinks as he makes his way down.

He’s really hoping Asami’s not home, as he has a feeling he is making a racket with his metal pole. But if Asami were home, he’d probably get into Akihito’s face as soon as possible.

In any case, he makes his way around another corridor. He’s a little afraid of opening any doors, as he's afraid of the possibility that it might lead to something he’s not supposed to see! Or he’ll be accused of SNOOPING. And while he was a snooper on a regular basis. Asami had invited him into his home, and it wouldn’t be right to snoop through his things.

_Even if he was a jerk._

Eventually, he finds the kitchen!

He’s having trouble describing the style of Asami's apartment. Something slightly retro about it, vintage in feel but sleek and modern all at the same time. The kitchen reminded him of his brief visit to Club Sion, evoking that kind of timeless, classical, masculine but contemporary style. He had black marble, with a subtle white vein on his countertops and backsplash. His cabinets were a chestnut wooden color, and the upper cabinets were black and modern looking. 

As beautiful as the design is, and as fancy as all his kitchen gadgets were, it's all just a fancy facade. Because alas, it’s a completely barren kitchen.

 _Ughhhh…._ Akihito grumbles as he looks at the empty fridge.

There is nothing but alcohol in the fridge. So much for findings some food…

He finds the pantry, and there are a few things. And by a ‘few things,’ he finds rice, tea, and coffee.

BUT. He can work with that.

* * *

Asami comes home early from work as early as he possibly can.

Akihito had drifted off to sleep this afternoon before he had left for work. It was likely he’d sleep all day, given the cocktail of painkillers they had given him. However, he was bound to be awake now as it was already 9 pm.

Asami's convinced Akihito would leave the apartment the first chance he got. In fact, he thought it was already likely Akihito had bolted. He had already asked to go home. For this reason, he thought it was vital that he relay some important information before he did bolt. They needed to talk. 

As he steps inside his apartment, his nose catches a whiff of something. He heads inside and passes the kitchen on his way through.

Akihito had evidently made something in his kitchen. A Japanese porridge, a simple meal that only requires rice and water to make, it's easy to digest and often served to sick people. It looked as if he had already taken a large portion.

 _It smells good…_ He makes a note of.

Asami’s a bit surprised. And not just because he knows there was nothing in terms of proper food in his kitchen, yet Akihito was still able to make something. But he’s also taken aback that Akihito seemed to just take it upon himself to do this. It's pretty bold to just waltz into a crime lords kitchen and make something for yourself.

He finds Akihito munching away on his half-eaten bowl of porridge. He's sitting at the kitchen table, which is in the great room.

The photographer doesn’t see Asami entering. He's gotten very comfortable. His eyes are glued to the TV, watching the evening news. Asami leans on the door frame. He crosses his hands over this chest.

“I see you're making yourself comfortable.”

Akihito jolts in surprise. He almost drops a spoon full of porridge on the ground as a result.

“I-ugh was hungry.” He says, immediately down casting his eyes, his cheeks flush in embarrassment. "I waited around, but no one was home. So... I just..made something.."

“Oh, so you weren’t snooping?” Asami teasingly chastises.

Akihito furrows his brows, and his eyes seethe in annoyance. “I did no such thing!” He stood up from his seat, and he lightly slammed the spoon on the table, “Unlike you, I have some basic manners! And wouldn’t SNOOP in a house I was kindly invited into.”

He was especially crossed because he had just been carefully maneuvering around the apartment - trying his hardest NOT to SNOOP. And here he was getting accused of it already. He seems to realize that he had, in fact, complimented Asami by saying “kindly.” And he scrambles to backtrack- although he's blundering through it.

“I-I mean, I-I wasn’t even ‘kindly invited’…You didn’t give me a choice on the matter! And then you leave me here with nothing to eat- so yeah… o-of course I am gonna try to find some food,”

Asami only smirked and scuffed. “Aren’t you just the model of restraint?” He says with teasing venom, “And you even managed to stick around…”

 _What's that supposed to mean!?!_ Akihito thought. _Your the one that told me I had to get better first._

Akihito sits back down. He was getting tired of this bickering that had somehow become routine between them.

The truth was, they danced around each other. Often not saying what was right in front of them, choosing instead to play this ridiculous game of give and take, of cat and mouse, of win or lose, of anything but the naked truth. 

Neither wanted to admit too much until the other one did. Or they'd backtrack, or they'd otherwise re-write the facts.

Akihito, for now, wanted it to stop. He had eight stitches, god damn it. And as far as he was concerned, he was already in _enemy territory_.

“Are you going to ask me about the USB drive?” He blunts out.

Asami cocks his head to the side. He looks down for a moment and then back up, “Follow me then,”

He turns on his heels and heads down the long hallway. Akihito is hesitant to follow, but he’s tired of walking on eggshells, and he just wants to break the seal.

Asami turns around a corner to the hallway and opens a door. He holds it open for Akihito as the younger man shuffles down the hallway. Akihito’s still lugging around the pole with his IV fluids, but eventually, he gets to the door.

It's the main bathroom, Asami is leading him to. Akihito had found it when he had first gone down this hallway after waking up.

It was a huge bathroom, just as everything else in this apartment was. It had the same black marble, with subtle white veins that were also in the kitchen. It lined the walls, and there were large dark tiles on the ground. A huge soak tube in the back room and an even bigger glass shower stall was in the front half.

He skeptically peers inside. _Why did Asami want to take me to the bathroom?_

He raises an eyebrow but steps inside without much thought. He has to walk past Asami to get into the threshold of the bathroom, and he catches a whiff of the man's cologne as he passes. It fills his nostrils and makes him feel a bit lightheaded.

Surely it's because he’s injured and weak, and the man puts on way too much that it's overflooding his sense.

But then he hears the dreaded click of the door closing behind him, and he’s frozen stiff again.

He’s suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that he’s half-dressed, stepping into the bathroom of a man that had taken his virginity in the most domineering of fashions.

Asami towers behind him a little too closely. “Don’t move,” Asami whispers into his ear, and Akihito flinches.

 _I just walked into this one... didn’t I?_ Akihito thinks in resignation…


	15. Part two, Ch.5: Down the Rabbit Hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally realized a few days ago that it had been OVER a month since I posted for black and white and I was like 😭😭😭 I thought it was like two weeks ago- how time flies all of a sudden!! 
> 
> 15 Chapters 💕💕💕
> 
> Anyway, this chapter has a bit of everything. Some fun, some smut, some fluff so 
> 
> ENJOY 😊
> 
> I have some little note at the end that u can choose to ignore.

Akihito had made a mistake.

Why, oh, why did he follow this man anywhere- let alone to the room at the end of the hallway, which he already knew was the bathroom. His blood ran cold as he heard the door closing behind him. The noise was the last crux that made Akihito finally realize the horrible mistake he’s made.

Why the bathroom of all places?

It didn’t really bode well in Akihito’s mind. He was one of those gruesome horror movie fans, and they really made his imagination run wild sometimes.

What comes to his mind is poor Janet Leigh screaming her head off in the shower. Or horrible scenes from his favorite horror movies of limbs being cut off or organs being harvested in the bathtub. And here he was like some hapless idiot that always the first to die in the movies.

And what was worse was that he knew very well that Asami was a killer. And not just cause of his good looks.

No. Akihito happened to be thinking of the gunfighting he had heard at the Chinese hideout and the bullet-ridden injured man he had found in the kitchen, moments before his rescue. He was thinking about Midori, the former head of security at Club Sion, who had been shot execution-style sometime during the police shoot out at the warehouse a few weeks ago. Or the fact that Yoshida, the former manager of Club Sion, who Akihito caught doing backroom deals had ‘officially’ disappeared the very same day of the warehouse incident.

There could be no doubt in Akihito’s mind what kind of man Asami Ryuichi was…

And everything- everything horrible always happens in the bathroom!

He stiffens up. His grip tightens around the metal pole carrying his IV bag, which he had been dragging around the apartment. He had already decided it would make the perfect weapon, and he wouldn’t go out so easily.

Asami towers behind him, a bit too close. His breath is right on Akihito’s ear, making him shiver.

“Don’t move,” He says, and his hands gently land on Akihito’s hips. The sudden contact makes Akihito flinch.

But then it dawns on him. Of course, here, Akihito was overthinking everything. His mind was only on horrible death and blood. He had hardly even registered that he was in nothing but boxers and a cotton t-shirt that belonged to Asami. Here he is in small quarters with not just a killer but also the same man that had carried him over his shoulders and then shoved him down on a bed. That had stripped him and made him cum twice while crying his eyes out.

Yes. It was dawning on him that there were worse things than death. That thought sent a horrible shudder through Akihito’s body.

He gets defensive. “What are you doing?” Akihito spins his head around, he wants to turn himself wholly around, but the hands-on his hips are keeping him in place.

“What did I just say, eh? Don’t move.” The wolfish grin on his face goes _noticed_ by Akihito. But, Asami pushes his hips to straighten Akihito out. Then, one of his hands reach for the grey t-shit and pushes it upwards, attempting to take it off.

Akihito was thrown into a flutter as the shirt is plucked away from him. He squirms around in a tizzy trying to stop it from happening.

“What are you—“ he attempts to stammers. His heart rate reaching a new fever pitch.

But Asami is quick, and the shirt is clumsily peeled over his head, yet still half on- as Akihito is refused to let it go over his arms. But the awkwardness does nothing to deter Asami, who straightens Akihito’s back up with his hips.

Akihito feels oddly like a rag doll being pushed around like this, but the thought only serves to remind him of the night he had already shared with Asami. He blushes furiously, and indignation rises in him. He wants to turn around and give this man a piece of his mind- notorious crime lord be damned.

But then Asami hands find where they were looking for- the bandages on his back. And Akihito freezes. The bandages are being carefully unwrapped around his torso and shoulder.

Akihito can almost _hear_ the smug smirk Asami is totting when he speaks, “What were you thinking just now?…hmm?’

Asami hadn’t taken him to the bathroom to harvest Akihito’s organs. He hadn’t even done it to fuck him senselessly (once again). He had only done it to clean and re-dress his wounds. But of course, he had to do it in the most infuriating way. Which he knew would cause Akihito to become flustered.

“Y-you bastard…” Akihito relaxes and pouts.

“Are you intensely aware of something? Hmm? Mind in the gutter, perhaps?” Asami chuckles.

* * *

“Ouch!” Akihito frights.

“Quit yapping,” Asami retorts back. He dabs the cotton ball drenched in alcohol, back on Akihito’s stitches.

Asami inspects the stitches splattered across the boys back. They’re scattered to where the whip had dug into flesh a little too deep. One or two stitches here and there, just to close a small but deep gash. One slash required 4 stitches where the skin had really torn, the worst of it. Everything else is just scratch's that are now swollen and red looking.

It admitted looks worse than it actually is.

“Owwww!” This time it really stings, and Akihito recoils.

“Quit being such a baby, Takaba. I’ve been told to clean this, and then we have to put some cream on it, so it doesn’t scar. So quit whining.”

The two were sitting on the bathroom countertop. Akihito’s back is to Asami as the older man treats his wounds. Asami had stripped off some of his three-piece suits. His tie and suit jacket were draped over the counter neatly, and he had rolled up his sleeves. While Akihito begrudgingly removed the grey t-shirt, he was wearing and sat on the counter in nothing but his boxers. The first aid kit Asami had taken out of one of the bathroom draws was in-between them.

“You're enjoying this too much…” Akihito says wearily.

Asami only response with a light chuckle and continues to dab the alcohol on him gently.

After a moment of silence between them, Asami breaks the silence, “Do you wanna tell me what happened exactly…” He tilts his head slightly to look at Akihito.

Akihito doesn’t answer right away, and he sighs before answering. “I was planning on leaving after I saw you at the fundraiser. I went to the back room right after, and they asked me to take out the trash… I should have just left. But I decided to take out the trash like I was asked. And I saw two men running after someone. I thought it was a robbery or something. I had my camera, and I used the flash to disorient them, and I called hotel security. They ran off, but they stabbed this man. When I went over to help him, he was shoving a USB drive into my hand… He told me to go to Club Sion in Shinjuku and give it to you.”

Asami’s finishes up cleaning the wound while Akihito continued with his account of events without interruption. There’s another pause as he finishes the first half.

“What-what happened to that guy?…the EMS said he’d be okay.” Akihito continued.

He figured Asami knew the man and knew what his condition was. Asami didn’t answer right away, and Akihito immediately regrets asking. He thought the question maybe sounded as if he was prying into things too much- as a journalist might, and he rather didn’t want to push his luck.

“…They came back for him when they found the disc wasn’t in the briefcase they took…” Asami answered honestly. “He’s dead.” He continued flatly.

Akihito closes his eyes. He wishes Asami hadn’t told him that. He can’t help the way his body tenses up at the news. Although he’s a bit surprised, Asami willingly shared that information.

“Should I not have told you that?” Asami asks. He can’t help but notice the color slightly draining from Akihito and the awkward pause that followed. The little voice in the back of his head has just reminded him that Akihito was a journalist, and he should be a bit more discreet about such information.

“I-I’m sorry he died…” Akihito started. It was true. He was sorry to hear that the man had been murdered after all. He doesn’t want to dwell on it, and he tries to steer the conversation elsewhere. “…So I- I went back to Club Sion the next day, but they wouldn’t let me in.”

“So, you mailed it to me.” Asami completes the sentence.

“…Yes…So you got it, after all. I-I dropped it off at the receptionist at Sion Corporation. She…she gave me a funny look so…I thought maybe she wasn’t going to.”

“I got it…” Asami’s voice trailed off. He wasn’t going to share his little dilemma of deciding whether or not to rescue Akihito.

“A little while later, I was in town, and this car pulls up. This guy comes out, and he starts apologizing for how I was treated at Club Sion and said that ‘ _the boss_ ’ wanted to see me… I knew your goons would never be so nice to me!” Akihito added jokingly, and it produced a smirk from Asami.

Akihito continued. “He kept insisting, and I was telling him no. I turned to leave because it didn’t feel right...and then I was grabbed from behind- chloroformed, I guess. When I woke up, I was chained up in some storeroom… and well they..- some fat Chinese guy rather, did this to me.”

“You're lucky that’s all they did to you…”

The words cause a shiver to run up his back. Akihito was well aware of the fact he was pretty lucky.

Asami had finished his work. He had rubbed in the cream that would help heal the wounds, and he starts to wrap the bandages around him. Akihito lifts his arms so he can wrap them around his chest. There's another long pause as he finishes up, but Asami speaks up again.

“I don’t think you’ll need these anymore.” Asami gestures to the IV bags.

One was a standard saline bag, and the other was for morphine. Asami picks up his arm and unscrews the tubing from his arm, and then he gently takes out all the other pieces of the IV attached to him. He does it in a way that tells Akihito that he’s done it before. Which reminds Akihito of the expert way he dressed and treated the wound, as if from experience or at least showing some basic medical knowledge.

“Have you done this before?” Akihito questions.

Asami doesn’t answer the question, “I’ll give you something to help you sleep later tonight. I also have something else for you.”

Asami sits up and grabs his suit jacket on the counter and digs for something inside, “It’s a prescription note thats in your name. It’s just some pain killer to take every day and some ointment for your back. You can pick it up at this pharmacist if you need more. It’s already been paid for.” He hands Akihito a bottle of pills and a tube of cream, as well as the paperwork.

Akihito’s a little reluctant to take it. Was this Asami brushing him off? Was he buying him off? Was he doing something nice because he genuinely wanted Akihito to get better, or was it him just throwing money around to solve this ‘little problem’ of his? Asami had said it in a way that somehow made it seem like it was both.

Akihito takes it, knowing he shouldn’t complain about things that concern his own health. The least Asami could do was to pay for some ointment and painkiller. All the same, he feels a little dirty, accepting Asami's help. He puts them on the counter to get them later.

“…Thank you.” He replies meekly. He looks down the whole time. “Asami…i-if you had the disc already…than wh-why did-”

It had been on his mind. Why had Asami even stepped in? They had only slept together once, but here he was cleaning his wounds, rescuing him from being kidnapped. The man was so hot and cold sometimes. He’d pretend one minute like you didn’t exist, and then the next, he’d act like he really cared.

Akihito’s not sure what brought on this sudden moment of bravery when he asked Asami a simple question. Why had he come? Why was he still here? Although he was fumbling with asking it, and he’s swiftly interrupted by Asami.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, kid. I just don’t like other people touching my things. And if it’s stolen from me- well, I take it back!” Asami says all too easily and unnecessarily harshly.

Akihito narrows his eyes, taken aback by the bold comment. “What's thats suppose to mean?”

Asami completely brushes by the question in favor of his own.

“I have another question,” Asami straightens out, and it occurs to Akihito that Asami has been hovering above him while he sits on the counter. The man puts both of his hands on either side of Akihito, leaning himself against the counter, so they are at eye level. But the move also effectively blocks Akihito’s escape routes. “The disc I received… it happens to have nothing on it. Strange, don’t you think?” Asami says with sarcasm, and theirs a mischievous glint in his eyes when he says it and a smirk growing on his lips.

_Oh, why, oh, why do I always lower my guard…._

Akihito’s face falls, and there's a slight flitch in his eyes as Asami speaks. “Uh..I-it was? Hm. You don’t say. How strange. M-maybe, the files got corrupted somehow…o-or it got damaged in the mail or something.” He tries, but he knows he’s so bad a lying.

“Hmm... Maybe…” An annoyingly smug smirk builds on Asami’s lips.

He scoops up Akihito’s chin and brings it upwards so he can examine Akihito’s face. His fingers brush lightly against Akihito’s cheek, and his golden eyes land on soft full lips. Akihito’s helplessly frozen as Asami tilts his head in to kiss those lips. But he pauses before his lips land on their target.

“Do you think you can fool me, Takaba?” He breathes out. His voice, so much like honey, that Akihito finds himself momentarily captured. “That’ll cost you,”

He tilts Akihito’s head slightly, and then he locks lips with the blond. Asami’s nostrils fill with that faint hint of rose and peach shampoo that he had smelled while cleaning the stitches on the boys back. He leans over him and presses Akihito into the wall as he intensifies the kiss.

Akihito shuts his eyes, all the while his brain is screaming at him to stop this.

Asami about to put his hands all over the boy, but Akihito pushes him away. The photographer flails his hands around Asami’s face and turns his head away.

“Q-Quit it! What are you doing?”

“Did you really think I was gonna let you off scot-free?” He says like the scoundrel he is.

Since Akihito had turned his face away, Asami lips find something else and trail down to Akihito’s neck. His lips are greedy and hankering. He sucks and bites. He pulls Akihito by the small of his back towards him.

He looks up and sees Akihito’s flush face and the way he tightly shuts his eyes. As if that will dissuade Asami from stopping.

Akihito still has enough will to protest, _for now,_ and he pushes Asami. “Y-you can’t!! What are you- I-I’m injured..”

Asami tries again to pull him into another kiss, but Akihito recoils away.

“I-I don’t want this, stop it!” Akihito’s shows a bit more bravery than he had the first time. But he also knew he would get swept away if he didn’t show a little resolve.

Asami’s eyes narrow, and he scoffs. “Exactly _who’s_ saying they don’t want this?” He chides.

One of his hands sweeps around Akihito’s hips and towards the front of his boxers, where a small bulge is awaiting him there. Akihito attempts to swats away his hand, but instead, it gets caught by Asami, and he pulls him into another kiss.

He laps his lips around his and pushes him deeper and deeper into the kiss. Trying to goad Akihito into kissing him back, as he had the first time. And it works very soon after. Akihito opens his mouth slightly, inviting in Asami's warm tongue.

After that, it’s just child's play. It’s too easy, Asami muses on.

Akihito melts. Asami can already see how breathless Akihito is, how hot and bothered he’s getting just from a few kisses. As all thought and attempts at protesting get utterly lost.

So lost that he doesn’t notice Asami tie, which he had taken off early and placed on the counter making a return. Until Asami quickly releases him from the kiss and yanks his hands together. Akihito is so momentarily stunned that he makes no protest as the loop goes around his delicate wrist.

And voila! The two wrists are bound together like a bow on a Christmas present- a very delectable present, Asami might add.

Akihito’s eyes widen in disbelief as he sees how his hands are tied, and he looks up, about to protest.

“Wh-”

But his words are quickly stifled in Asami’s mouth. The older man tugs at the tie, yanking Akihito upright while he helps him stand up from behind. As soon as the boy is standing on his own, Asami quickly reaches for the elastic of his boxer shorts. The ones he had been eager to get off since the moment he walked in the door.

Akihito makes a whining noise and tries to pull away from the kiss, but Asami only pulls him into more kisses. The older man doesn’t need the boxers to come out all the way off. He only needs to dig his hand down past the elastic. He scoops up Akihito’s hard and leaking cock, and pumps up and down his length.

He lets Akihito pull away from the kiss, as his head rolls back and he moans fragrantly. Asami lips grab hold of the boy's neck, which has now been exposed, and his hands continue to slip up and down the boy's length.

Akihito can hardly stand up on his own now. His knees are too weak. It could be the drugs in his system, making him such an easy and weakened target. But it’s probably more likely that he simply under Asami’s spell.

Asami tugs away the last of the boxers until they drop on the floor.

He’s got him now—hook, line, and sinker.

* * *

“Nn…Mmmphh. ahhh,” Akihito jaw clenches as he tries to stop his voice from its outbreak. “Ow. T-that hurts…!”

Pain and pleasure collided, and it lays waste to any reason Akihito could have possibly mustered.

The drugs must have done something funny to his head, as he is completely in a hazy cloud. His hole is burning from the stretch, and his stomach has that feeling of fullness and heat.

Akihito’s on his stomach, bent over the counter. His wrists are bond and pinned underneath him. They serve as the only cushion against hard marble countertops. Asami had lifted one of his legs by the thigh to spread him even further and deepen the penetration. But it made it, so he was awkwardly hobbling on one foot.

Asami was only half listening to Akihito’s complaints. The photographer had been whining since the beginning. However, his body tells a different story. One of wants and needs and Asami is all too happy to supply.

Asami's button-down shirt was still loosely on the man, and his pants were only slightly pushed down for access.

Asami had started out agonizingly slow and blistering.

He had to remind himself to go a little bit easier on the boy. Although his mind was not on the stitches and bandages around the photographers back or over some kind of concern for that. No, he was far too self-serving for that.

His mind was only on the fact that last time they had done it, the boy had passed out before he was finished with him. And this time, he would make sure that Akihito would last longer than one round.

Expect thats easier said than done.

He repeatably pushes the boy's hips into him, plunging his slick hard shaft inside deeper and deeper. He is simultaneously pushing down the blonds back so that he arches into every thrust. Skin slapping on skin and wet sounding squelching noises sound so filthy that it incites the need for more and more.

The increased heat in Asami’s belly also only inflames the need for more. His pace quickens in tempo, despite himself. He's overwhelmed with the need to push them both over the edge.

In one sweeping motion, he flips Akihito over. So he's on his stitches ridden back, which causes the boy to cry out. It is perhaps a little cruel, but the pain will only be momentary.

Asami pushes him deeper into the countertop. With every thrust he puts into the boy, Akihito is shoved backward. So that his head is almost colliding with the mirror on the wall, Akihito puts his bounded hands over his head instinctively and protectively. He tries to cling to the wall, attempting to get some grip, so he is not driven into the mirror.

Akihito pants and whines and mewls. This position intensifies both the pain and pleasure. His head rolls back as he cries out, and his eyes are already brimming with tears that sting with pain.

Both of his legs are brought up into the air. One goes over Asami's shoulder, which raises Akihito’s hips slightly off the countertop - perfect for the penetration Asami is aiming for. While the other is being held by the ankle to spread him open even further.

“AH! Noo- ahh.”

“Look at me.” Asami's voice breathlessly calls out. Akihito has shut his eyes fervently since being flipped over, and he’s so lost that he doesn’t respond to it at first. “Look at me, Takaba.”

Akihito opens his eyes.

Asami is standing over him, a devilish and heated look in his eyes. “You belong…only to me. I’m the only one you will ever have…” He leans down and captures Akihito’s mouth, sealing his words with a kiss.

The words incite a need for Akihito to respond. _H-how dare he say that! None of that is for him to decide._

And while he argues inside his head, the most he can marshal in the way of a response is a; “I-I’ll never be—Nah.”

He cannot finish his arguments as his legs are repositioned, and Asami’s thrusting increases in power and speed.

“ahh! AHh!” He’s back to moaning and groaning wantingly. His head rolls back, and his hands go back to trying to find a good grip.

Asami releases one of his legs. His hand instead wraps around Akihito’s achingly hard cock, which had hardly been touched. He pumps the leaking member, compelling him to climax hard and fast.

“Ahhhh!” Akihito cries at the double stimulation. He writhes around and thrashes his head. The need for more friction makes him so overwrought with the need to come that he eagerly rocks his hips to catch every thrust.

“Thats it! Thats it!” Asami follows him. He’s just as hankering with the same need for more.

Akihito yelps as he comes, and his chest is splattered with his own sticky white cum. His insides clench up, lapping down tightly on Asami's own cock inside of him, drawing out the other man's release. Asami rides it out with a few more thrusts inside the boy, so every drop is released.

But now that the pleasure is released- only pain remains. And Akihito’s head is filled with fog, and his vision blurs.

Asami drops his head down on Akihito’s neckline, lightly suckling and kissing his neck as his heart rate goes down. And after a moment of catching his breath, it suddenly dawns on him that he was supposed to go easy. He shoots his head up to check on the boy.

Akihito’s out like a lamp.

Asami curses himself.

* * *

So here he was wiping the Takaba boy down- again.

He would have just picked him up and stepped into a shower, but he’s reminded that he has bandages on, and they can't get wet. So he wipes him down and picks him up, and deposits the boy in the master bedroom. Then he takes a shower himself.

He grabs a drink in the main sitting room, afterward while he’s still in his towel. He heads back to the bedroom, where the sleeping boy is curled up in his bed.

Asami sighs. He knew once again that it was his own fault. The boy was rather _delicate_ , wasn’t he? And so touchy too. Clearly in need of some kind of _reassurance_ that Asami was not used to giving _anyone_.

He had fucked him, hadn’t he? That was about as much he could think to do to soothe him after what he’d been through.

It had put a stop to all those pesky little questions he had asked, questions that Asami had frankly no answer for.

No, no. What was he saying? He did have an answer for it. He rather not have the pretty but naive photographer blood on his hands. Was that something he shouldn’t admit to readily? Did that mean something more? Surely not?

Wasn’t it better that he didn't say - I would prefer not to have to dump your dead body in Tokyo Bay.

If they had waited any longer. Or if they had decided not to follow through with the rescue attempt, they would have found a cold dead body instead of an injured Akihito.

Asami would be forced to dump it. A grisly thought, one that had been on his mind all day today. Akihito’s body would have had evidence of torture. If it were found, it would have caused a media circus. And likely than a crackdown on organized crime.

Admittedly, it had been a gruesome thought even in his own mind. It was definitely not something one should _say_ to the boy. Asami may have been a crime lord, but he wasn’t unnecessarily cruel or brutal. 

He had simply picked the less gruesome alternative. 

A simple shootout at the docks, a gang leader left dead, and a few of his stooges left injured was an easier mess to explain than the kidnapping, torture, and murder of a young journalist.

He didn't really want to think of the end results of those other options, ones where the Takaba boy had died alone and afraid in a dingy storeroom.

Asami had finished putting on some comfortable pants he usually wore to bed. He turns around and looks at the sleeping photographer while taking a swig of his favorite brandy.

He sits down next to the boy and puts his drink on the bedside table. He pushes the blankets up a bit, so they're covering him better. Akihito’s sleepy face looked so untroubled and tranquil, despite the dangers and cruelty he had just been exposed to. 

He was young. Asami supposes. Or maybe it was another one of the boys' contradicting nature he could add to the list. Delicate but resilient, all the same. He seemed to have a tendency to bounce back easily, even after hardships that would make anyone else a cynic. 

Asami brushes a hand across his flushed cheek and sweeps a thumb across his full lips.

Alright, he’d admit it. This outcome of events had decidedly ended in the best results.

Asami brushes some of Akihito's hair out of his face, and his golden eyes land on the boy's parted lips. He leans down and kisses them.

It seemed as if the universe had decided to grant them a second chance...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOO when I first started this- i was kinda considered it as if this was the Netflix version of Finder. And particularly looking at those first three chapters of finder to rewrite and put my own stamp on. At the time i only had those three planned and I wasn't sure if I wanted to do the whole series as it goes back and forth and back and forth and its so damn complicated. 
> 
> I had a lot of original content, tho, Its kinda complicated because i had a lot of ideas, plans, scenes. i plan things rather non-linear, and it's all kinda a jumble. But i feel like I just put everything under the label of - it'll go in Black and white. when actually they could be one-shots or completely other stories and it's hard in my mind and also in my physical notes to detangle that. 
> 
> I feel like i started this journey, and it feels almost like a cop-out if i don't completely do the whole arch, which i had already started to prepared for, and i want to see it through.
> 
> While another part is just like FUCK it. I don't need to follow all the arches or the canon storyline whatsoever and just go completely in a different direction and have my own character development - with some things that may or may not be partially from the canon storyline, while other things are not at all. (which i am inclined to do)
> 
> so idk basically what i am saying is: 
> 
> -Black and White, is gonna take a bit of a turn, where its going to follow the canon much less, or not at all.  
> -I am also planning on releasing some more one-shots as well.  
> -I am currently working on the awaited 2nd epilogue of "Thanks for the Memories" and hopefully will be out soonish.  
> So stay tuned 😊


	16. Part two, Ch.6: Fool me Once

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know when your stressed out and you just get a lot of stuff done. That was me the last few days as we wait for election results... I made pumpkin eggnog to cheer up and it was delicious.
> 
> But that also means good for you guys because of new chapters, so enjoy❤️

The next morning Akihito’s still utterly wasted sleeping in Asami’s bed.

He gets gently woken up by the older man, and he groans and scrunches his face up tiredly. Asami’s hands hook him from behind and pull him to his broad chest. The man is already dressed for the day, but Akihito’s too groggy to even open his eyelids. They feel too unbearably heavy, and his head is pounding.

“Takaba…” A baritone voice speaks into his ear.

Akihito only groans in response. 

“Takaba…” Lips trail down to his neck and nibble on him lightly, and Akihito groans groggily. “Takaba…I want you to stay here today, Takaba, where you can rest.…If you get hungry, you can call the front desk downstairs…” He nibbles on Akihito a bit more. “I’ll be back early today, so stay here.”

Akihito hardly registers the words, “mhhhhh” He just responds slightly grumpily.

The warm hands around him slip away, and Akihito groans a bit at the loss. Although, he’s able to slip right back to sleep.

When he wakes a few hours later, he’s still as groggy as ever. He groans into the pillow as he becomes more alert.

 _God damn it…._ He thinks with a groan. _Fool me once…Shame on you. Fool me twice… uh- tsk - Also shame on you._

He feels exactly as he had felt a few weeks ago after a night with Asami Ryuichi, waking up sore, groggy and grumpy.

Once again, he let this happen. And once again, he let Asami walk all over him.

_Damn him. Damn him and his perfect stupid face. And his—_

His mind inadvertently went straight to Asami's _other_ qualities. _Those golden-eyes that looked right through you. That wicked tongue. Those freakin abs and that well endowed —_

Akihito shut himself up before he thought something he shouldn’t have, and his cheeks warmed on his face.

When he finally decided to stop moping, he picked his head up from the pillow and looked around. He immediately sees the bottle of pain killers Asami had given him yesterday and a glass of water on the bedside table. He opened the bottle and took a dosing while he swallowed down the water.

He flipped over and looked around the room. It was about twice the size of the guest room. There was a wall of windows on one side, currently covered with blackout shades. A king-size with black silk sheets, that sat in the middle of the room.

There was something Akihito was starting to notice about the decor in Asami's apartment. The very dark and simple color palette, highly stylized, contemporary in feel, and the expensive-looking and high-quality materials used.

But there was one thing in particular odd that stood out to him. Sure each room looked like something out of a magazine, but people don’t live in those highly staged magazine photos.

That was the problem with this apartment, as beautiful as it was - it wasn’t _lived_ in.

There were no personal photographs. Which, of course, a photographer would take notice of. Not that Akihito was expecting to see baby pictures of Asami just lying around. ( _Although that would be AMAZING!_ ). But there were no pictures of Asami or of family or friends, either. No food in the kitchen. No dishes in the sink. No clutter of hair products in the bathroom. No dirty clothes were mislaid in the bedroom. No plants. Or magnates on the fridge. Books were for decoration and not for reading. 

It was all very sterile and impersonal. Where was the clutter and wear of daily life? It seemed very _staged_ , like a pretty but cold facade.

Does that remind him of anyone in particular? Akihito sighed. It was exactly what he probably should have expected from Asami. But he relented. He didn’t really wanna start psychoanalyzing Asami based on his interior decorating skills… although it seemed likely that Asami probably only came here to sleep and nothing else.

But maybe this wasn’t even where he slept? Maybe it was just one of many safe houses. In fact, that made much more sense to Akihito. Why would Asami bring him to his own personal house? And he ended the thought with that.

Before he could climb out of bed, he notices Asami seemed to have laid out for him some clothing. His cell phone, wallet, and his backpack that had all been recovered as well, and Asami was returning them to him. That was lucky. Akihito would breathe a little easier knowing he didn't have to get new ID's or credit cards.

He dressed in the clothes left out for him. They were ridiculously soft, and Akihito grumbled a bit that Asami got the right size for him.

The photographer thinks about what he was gonna do. His mind goes back to what Asami had said to him this morning about staying at the apartment. Asami expected him to be back when he returned. He had even sounded a bit sincere.

His words rang in Akihito’s mind, _“I want you to stay here today, Takaba, where you can rest.”_

Akihito only considered it for a mere few seconds.

_AS IF!!!! I’m leaving!_

* * *

Asami got a message from the reception desk at the apartment a little after 2 pm. He was half expecting it.

 _So he got away…_ He thinks.

The way he had thought it, you might have thought he sounded a bit disappointed. But he swiftly shooed that thought away.

Asami scoffs.

He _knew_ should have tied the little brat to his headboard. He thinks _almost_ jokingly. Almost…

He lights up a cigarette in the back seat of the limo on his way to a quick meeting elsewhere. The mess at the Baishe hideout was getting cleared up, although it had dug through his usual schedule. Then there was extra time he was taking off to deal with the unruly photographer.

Kirishima will probably be pleased once he finds out the punk bolted. Now there was no excuse for why his evening schedule couldn’t resume back to normal.

Asami sighs. He’s about to bring the partition up and tell Kirishima that the schedule can be brought up. When the car pulls to a stop at a stoplight, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees a blond head buzzing by. He looks out, recognizing it.

Akihito whirls by in a flurry, face beaming, eyes gleaming. His complexion looks worlds better than it had yesterday night or even this morning. He looks like his usual self.

“So energetic…” Asami scoffs to himself as he watches him pass the limo.

_I guess he just keeps bounced back…_

A thought crawls into Asami’s head. One where he demands the car stop and turn around so he can throw the boy in the car and take him back home. And then make sure all that energy he had was spent in a far more _productive_ manner.

But he pauses at the thought. What the heck was he thinking?

Where had he gotten such whimsical ideas? It wasn’t like him to act or even think so impulsive and without care...

He groans. He had a meeting to go to… and obviously…that took priority.

* * *

Akihito wasn’t stupid. He had charged his phone before making his escape plan. But as soon as his phone came buzzing back to life, he was greeted by a barrage of text messages from none other than his co-worker Nanami Kino.

Did that girl have an Aki-radar or something? Was what he had first thought when she got her messages.

But, no. She didn’t know anything about the kidnapping, and the torture and the injuries- and wow, this was another one of those really, really bad days, wasn't it.

And frankly, Akihito preferred if she never found out. Since Asami was involved again, he really didn’t want her to get wrapped up in his problems. One because anything involving Asami was dangerous, and he definitely didn’t want her to get hurt. But also two, because he really didn’t want to hear more lectures about staying away from Asami Ryuichi. (He has been TRYING.)

She was also likely to pry. Although he couldn’t blame her, she was pretty protective and always looking out for him.

Which brings us to her new barrage of text messages he was receiving now. She was working on something, and her choice of photographer came down to Mitarai or him, and if he didn’t respond to her in the next 30 minutes, she’d be stuck with Mitarai. So please, please respond.

Oh, he felt for her.

But…at the same time, he wasn’t feeling all that great to be out working again. As much as work would probably keep his mind off any perfect face bastard. But perhaps he could help her out.

So he sent her a message, letting her know that he was interested but ‘coming down with something’- So it better be something good.

She replied quickly, chastising him, “Ugh, no wonder I couldn’t get a hold of you- you were sleeping!”

“Come on!! I told you I’m coming down with something. Don’t you want my help!” He sent lots of pouty faces emoji to her.

“Fine, fine. I don't want to get stuck with Mitarai again. Although... I am sure he would just jump at the opportunity to hear a PRIME scoop!” She starts. “BUT, I understand if you're under the weather. Even though this is right up your alley… but if you’re not ready to take on something...then I guess that's fine."

Oh, she played dirty... 

"Fine. What do you got!" he relented. He did enjoy getting ahead of Mitarai...

"GOOD! I have almost no information other than the police have locked a crime scene up. Let’s just go and check it out, see what we can find out.”

For some reason, the news didn’t raise alarm bells for Akihito. Perhaps his head wasn’t screwed on properly with the vague detail he was given by Kino, and he didn’t connect the dots the way he should have.

At the time, it just became the perfect excuse to ditch Asami’s apartment and focus on anything else _but_ the crimelord.

It sounded like it would be worth checking out. It didn’t seem like Kino was asking for him to do anything physical, just help talk to some cops, take some shots that might be useful later if a story broke. The way she made it sound, it was as if it was just breaking news.

“Alright. I’m down. Can I meet you somewhere?” He responds quickly.

She gives him a station that they can meet at and walk to where the crime scene is, and then a general time frame to get there. Before he does anything, he releases the station would be a haul from where he currently was.If he wanted to get there within the time frame, he had to leave now.

Even better! He gathered his things quickly and left the apartment. He didn’t have a key to lock the door, but he figured who would dare to rob Asami.

He stops at a convenience store and grabs something to eat. He snarfs it down. It makes him feel already much better. And then he basically runs to the nearest station without stopping.

He meets up with Kino just in time. He was getting worried that if he showed late, she might think that he hadn’t come from his apartment. And that would then not fall in line with the story that he's ‘under the weather.”

The two catch up a bit. Obviously, Akihito makes no mention of his most recent entanglement with Asami. As far as he was concerned, it was already out of his mind. Even though his backside still stings a bit.

As they walk along, they near the area where the supposed crime scene was, and Kino gives some extra details. Although her knowledge was pretty low.

“The sight seemed to be locked down for a while, which is really odd. But I can imagine it's because someone doesn't want the media to know about it. Which means-”

“We’re in the right place…” Akihito finishes her thought.

It sounded like a promising story, something crime-related. 

They turn a corner, and Akihito starts to recognize where he, a small area of Tokyo where a few Chinese restaurants are lined up. It's not exactly a ‘Chinatown.’ The real Chinatown is just outside Toyko in Yokohama. This is only a few blocks of streets that are Chinese owned.

Akihito stiffen. Some things click inside his head.

_Uh-oh…._

* * *

Akihito decided he'd _only_ look around.

He had obviously not known where he had been taken when he was kidnapped by this unknown Chinese gang. And when he left with Asami, he was basically unconscious. So Akihito hadn’t seen anything. Nor had he known anything about what the outside of the building looked like.

Nothing looked particularly familiar to him, as he circled the building with Kino. He’d have to look inside to confirm it was truly the spot.

He tried to act nonplussed and calm in front of Kino, but he was a bit thrown.

He had expected to hear some kind of reports of a shooting or maybe some evidence of Asami rescue. But he thought by now, more than 24 hours later, it would be old news.

Was Asami really that good to keep the press away and a police investigation away for more than 24 hours….

Yeah, okay, maybe he was...

Was he cleaning it all up?

Akihito thought vaguely about how his wallet and backpack were recovered. He knew Asami must have had people in the police force- perhaps his things were picked up so he wouldn’t have to be embroiled in any investigation. Something that was both good for Akihito and Asami.

The police tape was everywhere, and as they poked around at some of the officers guarding the entrances. They were told, “Police business, move along.”

As the two continued looking at the place, Akihito snapped some photos to keep up appearances with Kino. But he was started to feel a little bit of dread build in him. He didn’t really want to be here...investigating his own kidnapping. What if Asami found out that he was here snooping around with another journalist. He would probably rush to some conclusion…

“I don’t know, Kino. I don’t know if there's a story here….” He tried to come up with something to get out of this. Sorry, Kino. But he wanted out. No way was he about to give Asami a chance to give him a hard time. “We don’t know enough…”

“What’s up with you? I thought this would be right up your alleyway?” Kino scrunched her face.

Someone exits the Chinese restaurant’s entrance, across the street from where the two were waiting nearby. Kino recognizes the man exiting and rushes up to him. Putting their conversation on hold.

“Inspector Saito? Namani Kino from the Weekly Headline, would you mind commenting on the police presence here?”

The man turns around and looks a the two of them. He’s in full police gear, a blue military-like coat, clearly a superior officer. He’s an older man with salt and pepper hair, rather serious and distinguished looking. He looks at the pair up and down dubiously.

As Akihito follows behind Kino, he starts to recognize the man in front of him. Inspector Saito, he thought he recognized the name too. He was the one barging into the docks to break up the meeting with Tanaka and Gotunda a few weeks ago.

Seeing him now- oh, he was definitely one of Asami’s.

And he didn’t like how he looked Akihito up and down like he knew exactly who he was.

“We’ll be making a public statement when we’re ready. We’re still in the midst of an investigation, and I would appreciate it if the press stayed away while we do our job.” He answered easily, and then he turned and walked away into a squad car.

As soon as the man is out of earshot, Kino scoffs.

“That guy's sooo annoying.” She rolls her eyes and then turns to look at him, “If the Inspector is in charge…you know it must be something good.” She says, turning to Akihito. Her eyes are sparkling with excitement - she really thought she had found a good scoop, and the journalist in her was so excited.

Akihito could sympathize, but not this time.He had a distinct feeling that his presence here would be reported to certain Yakuza, by that Inspector Saito. And well, that was a concerning thought. The photographer didn’t want to get Kino caught up in all this.

“Kino. I’m sorry, but all we have is a location. I don’t have the energy for this kind of thing…"

They headed back to the station, and the whole time he brought her down slowly. Trying to convince her that there didn’t seem like a story here.

“Just cause you don’t like that guy doesn’t mean there's a story here.” He tried to reason with her. They had walked back to the station. He knew it would be hard to convenience her completely to give it up. But if he convinced her, there was no story. Then maybe she'd give up too.

“Sorry, maybe I’m just a little tired. But really... I don't think there's anything here!” He reminds her. "Not everything is a story..."

* * *

Kino waved good-bye to the blond photographer as he hopped onto his train.

“Let me know if you need anything!” She yelled after him as he stepped on to his train to head home.

He did look a little _out of it_ …So she was feeling forgiving over how quickly he had abandoned the story. Perhaps he would get some sleep and then be back to his usual self.

She turned to take the train to her own apartment, and on her walk back to her apartment, she gets a call from a secured number.

She pauses before answering and groans.

 _Not this again_. She thinks.

“Hello?” She answers,“This is Kino.”

A cool baritone voice replies quickly. “Who was your source about the restaurant?”

Kino stiffens. She turns in to an alleyway for privacy. “How did you know about that?”

He doesn’t answer.

She sighs exaggeratedly, “I have lots of sources in that neighborhood. Some people were just complaining about the sudden police presence…What’s your involvement in this?” Kino asks.

It wasn’t like her to ask such questions of Asami. But her curiosity was piqued. Moreover, how did he know that she was looking into it - …

 _Saito..._ the little piece of information she’s file away for later.

There’s a pause on the line. “Y’know I’m not obliged to answer your questions. Stay away from it. Listen to the police report when it comes...and thats all you have to worry about…”

“Is that an order? You want me to skip this story?” She asks firmly.

There's another non-answer from Asami.

“I’m just asking for clarification…”

“Yes."

She sighed under her breath. “Fine. I will.”

There’s another awkward pause, as she was expecting Asami to hang up, but he stays on the line instead for another moment.

“Were you…working on this… with someone else?”

She tenses up at the words. Remembering that Akihito had earned Asami’s ire last time, although the crime lord seemed to be uninterested in him that time and let him go without trouble. The way he's saying it now, it’s almost like he knew already.

Her lack of a quick response answer Asami’s question.

“The _photographer_?” He questions.

She sighs and rolls her head back. _Shit._

“I admit I invited him to come over and check out a story with me. I had no idea you were involved. He doesn’t know anything about it. And I'll have you know as soon as we showed up at the place he wanted _out_ of the story. I promise he won’t be involved at all.”

“Is that so…” Asami replied.

“He was a little under the weather, okay?! So he wasn’t interested in it. He thought there was no story there.” She continued defending the boy.

“I believe you.” And Kino relaxes. There's another pause. “Kino. I…I want you to keep me posted on what stories he’s working on.”

_Eh._

_“_ Why?! He hasn’t done anything!” Kino immediately gets defensively.

She hears the man sigh. “I’m just want to make sure we don’t have _any more_ problems with him…”

Kino doesn't answer right away. Making it clear that she wasn't happy with his request. But there was no way around it. “Fine…but he’s a freelancer, so I don’t always know what he's up to.”

* * *

Akihito starts to falter on the train back home. He doesn’t feel like cooking, so he decides to order something like ramen from a nearby place. He can pick it up on his way back to his apartment.

And when he gets home, he breathes a sigh of relief. He slumps into his desk. It was dinner time now, but he feels pretty exhausted and knows after he eats, he's gonna wanna sleep until tomorrow. He turns on his computer and places the ramen on his desk.

The ramen makes his weary body feel warm and tingly. He eats. Taking his time enjoying the food while he sets up his computer.

Now that he was home. There was something he needed to do...

He types in his password and goes to a secured file. And hidden among them is a single small file. One he hadn’t even begun to dig into. But had figured it might be useful one day.

Akihito had done something he shouldn’t have back then. He made a copy of _some_ of the files on the dreaded disc. Only some, since it was too large to get everything.

He couldn’t help himself. Honestly, a part of him, which revealed in digging into other people's dirty secrets, couldn’t help but save some of those files. It was just too tempting to throw away completely.

That day, he had deleted everything else on the disc before leaving to go to Sion that afternoon. He had deleted the entire contents from the disc because he was afraid about what was on the disc…What if there was something on it that directly hurt someone or got them killed. Someone had already gotten stabbed for this.

Whatever it was, he was certain it would be illegal. So he definitely didn’t want to be party to that.

Delete it all, and Asami be damned- _Nobody_ would get the information on the disc. He was aware that deleting the files would probably earn him Asami wrath, and he figured he’d hear about it from the man himself soon enough after he dropped off the disc.

But he was willing to face those consequences and explain that he wasn’t gonna be involved in anything shady. He hid the files he had saved in a secure place on his computer, just in case, Asami raided his apartment again.

He hadn’t made any plans about what he would do with the information he had saved. Since the docks, Akihito hadn’t given up looking into Asami's business even if he was treading carefully while he did so.

Admittedly, he had thought about using the data against Asami- at some point. He was playing the long game, after all. One day he _would_ get enough information on Asami that would take him down. At least, that was what he had told himself since the events on the dock.

I mean, Asami deserved it…right?

But now… things were complicated.

Akihito hadn’t expected to be kidnapped by some other group that was interested in the disc. He still didn’t know how this Chinese gang had found out he had it.

And he had anticipated even less that Asami would rescue him.

Ugh. It just dirtied the water. How could Akihito square “Asami” the evil crime lord, and the “Asami" that hadn’t left him for dead? Or what about the “Asami” that had diligently cleaned his stitches and wanted him to rest. Or even more confusing, the “Asami" that had fucked him into oblivion.

God, that man was confusing.

It was making Akihito very confused about what side Asami was on…

He looks at the file. It looked pretty meaningless to him—a list of names and locations, which he didn’t recognize.

He groans and double clicks on the file. His curser hovers over the delete button, and he hesitates.

_Dumb Bastard._

*Click*


	17. Part two, Extra Episode: Call off the Goons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to be gone for such a long time, and sorry to give a kinda a filler episode 😭! but I just love writing them bantering and arguing! I was trying to get this out earlier, but the usual distractions got in the way. And then to top it all off- last night we had a power outage here so I couldn't finish it up. 
> 
> I am also working on some other things that I hope will be out soon 😅

The wounds on Akihito’s back are mostly healed after about two weeks. He had grumbled a bit, having to put the ointment on his back by himself, which had proved to be a difficult task.

But finally, the stitches had been removed, and the ointment had done its trick. It had been more of a mental ordeal than anything else. Every time he had to think about them, it was another memory of Asami that Akihito didn’t want to rehash.

Every time it stung slightly, every time he had to take those pain killers, Asami had given him. When he had to think about going to the clinic to get the stitches removed…

It would just be Asami, Asami, Asami.

The idiot wasn’t even around, and yet he still preoccupied Akihito’s thoughts. They would just creep into his head and remind him over and over. It was mentally exhausting.

The only way he found to get over this hurdle was to keep himself entirely busy. But since he was trying to take it easy after the stitches... it was more difficulties. And on top of it all, there was one more drawback he had almost forgot to mention…

The unmarked cars and goons in suits had returned to watching Akihito. He had noticed their return on the very same day he had left Asami’s apartment.

_So it was back to this again…_

He tried his best to ignore it. He kept himself occupied in other ways. For one. He had finally taken steps to move out of his apartments. 

He had already been looking at a few places before the whole disc thing, and now things had finally come together. Akihito had wanted to move out since Asami's late-night visit a few weeks back. Things had not been the same since then, and he thought moving would be a fresh start.

Tokyo was a big enough city for the both of them.

There was no point in moving all together to a different city - god knows his parents called him often enough to get him to move back home and start doing marriage interviews. Their persistent nagging had gotten especially worse after they had read and learned about Yamazaki corruption.

Since every journalist in town wrote and investigated his fall from grace, it had been pretty big news on their end. They knew Akihito used Yamazaki as a source, and they were horrified to hear of his crimes. Although, Akihito had failed to mention how all those events transpired and how he was directly involved - it was better they not know.

But there was no way Akihito was leaving. He had started to look for apartments in a few different areas. Everywhere was pretty abysmal…Akihito was starting to think he was actually fortunate that he had a 2 bedroom flat because he found nothing comparable that he could either afford or that wasn’t a shit hole.

That is until shortly after the disc fiasco, about two weeks ago, he found a place after expending his search.

It was in a good neighborhood, and the inside was even newly renovated. Somehow it was actually even below his usual price point! At the time, Akihito thought it all seemed too good to be true- but he applied just in case. They got back to him right away and scheduled a tour with a real estate agent. It was all very official and even pretty fancy.

The place was beautiful, perfectly located. It was nice, clean, and stylish on the inside. When the real estate agent that had given Akihito the tour, she had said something about how the apartment had been up on the market for a few weeks. Which was odd, given an apartment like this would typically be snatched up within a day, especially at this price point. But apparently, all the other applicators were mysteriously rejected. Until Akihito that is!

 _What a lucky break!_ Akihito had thought.

He immediately signed the lease, and his move-in date was fairly soon. He couldn’t believe his stroke of luck. He spent the last two weeks packing his apartment and preparing for the move.He had even been contacted by the building's property management group, who told him that it would be fine for him to start moving in before the lease agreement started, which was a ridiculously nice perk.

Takato was Akihito's only friend with a car, so he roped Kou and Takato into helping him move.

“This is like a seriously nice part of town. How can you afford this?” Takato said while they pulled up to the apartment.

“ Just a stroke of luck, I guess! The realtor told me that it had been on the market for a while, and apparently, all the other applicators messed up on their application,” Akihito said. When they had pulled up in front of the building, even Kou was nodding approvingly.

“Dude, I’m not gonna lie. I’m a little jealous. And they’re letting you move in before your lease starts, I’ve never even heard of such a thing!” Kou added. “You have to let me know when there's an opening here - I wanna move here!”

They got in no problem and started to load up boxes in the elevator. After a few hours, the boys settled down on the floor of the new apartment with some sodas and snacks they had gotten at a convenience store.

“You better invite us here all the time, Akihito. This is like - a real ‘stable income’ kinda apartment. Dude. It’s like the kind of apartment you actually bring girls home to.” Kou jokingly remarked as he munched down on some pocky.

It was certainly a step up from his old place. Almost the same square footage wise, but bright airier, and with more modern appliances and style. It was certainly the kind of apartment some office worker might be able to get.

“What are you talking about? I already host all of our drinking nights, you idiots.” Akihito teased right back. He ignored that part of the comment about bringing girls home.

“I’m gonna probably have to show up here in only my best shirt and shoes because you gonna have some cute neighbors.” Kou mused on.

The dark-haired boy always talked confidently about his dating life, but the truth was he was about as goofy around girls as the rest of them were. Takato was the only one in a long term relationship. He was actually engaged to his girlfriend, and the wedding was very soon.

But at least Kou had always openly tried to be in relationships, despite most ending in disaster. Akihito had given up on even trying long ago.

And with all the things that happened with Asami… well, it had made Akihito realize he had always made up excuses when it came to relationships and about women in particular.

He was starting to realize that maybe the reason he had always hesitated and shown disinterest was actually because he was not partial to women.

In all honesty, meeting Asami was not the first time Akihito had suspicions that he was interested in men. By the time he was in his 20, the thought had certainly crossed his mind. But he knew he was not ready to admit such a thing to anyone, and barely to himself. So he kept himself in denial.

He kept himself preoccupied with his career and his city life in Tokyo so he wouldn’t have to admit anything. He told himself that adding a relation into the mix just seemed impossible, and once his career was settled - he’d think about it.

In a country like Japan, there weren’t many ‘out’ people. Although it was gradually changing. The older generation still had very traditional ideas about marriage and raising families. Akihito’s own parents were very much on the - "When can we be expecting grandchildren, Akihito" line. He frankly wasn’t even sure how Kou and Takato felt about it, and on some level, it terrified him immensely.

It was easier to pretend that nothing had changed. He wasn’t ready to shake up his entire sense of self and how he identified- especially for a man like Asami. It's not like there was a future with him... And frankly, the man was an anomaly- an exception to the rule.

In any case, Akihito was used to playing along for the sake of his friends when they brought up women.

“All you can think about is girls!” Takato’s voice took Akihito out of his thoughts. His friend teasing admonished Kou, for his one-track mind. “Akihito! You owe us dinner! So let’s get out of here!”

They left the partially moved in apartment building and went to pick up some cheap food from a nearby street vendor.

All the while, Akihito stayed mindful of the fact that an unmarked car and a man in a suit was following him. He certainly hoped Kou and Takato wouldn’t notice them. He didn’t want to have to explain that he was wrapped up in some dangerous stuff, with a particularly _handsy_ yakuza.

They thankfully hadn’t noticed, and Akihito was spared the awkward conversation. The three had a decent meal with each other, and Akihito said his goodbyes and told them he was gonna be heading home for the evening.

He walks for a bit. The entire time, some very obvious idiot was on his tail.

 _God, you’d think Asami would have the money to hire a professional!_ It was almost insulting, honestly, to have this newbie tailing him.

He was easy enough to lose, Akihito usually just jumped on the subway. Or he’d take ‘short-cuts’ on his scooter when he really wanted him off his back. But surely, Asami was well aware of the fact that the goons he hired lacked some serious subtly.

But perhaps that was the point.

Akihito was _supposed_ to know that Asami was always watching and keeping an eye on him. Making sure he behaved himself. And it sometimes made his blood a little cold thinking about it. It was clearly meant to be intimidating…insurance to make sure he stayed quiet.

He wasn’t sure what he expected to happen now that he had slept with Asami - twice. Hadn’t once been enough? Wasn’t Akihito supposed to be going back to his life as a normal run of the mill freelancer? 

He was worried the answer was no… The universe had seemed to keep putting them back together. Despite how hard Akihito tried to avoid the man.

But on some level, Akihito could still convince himself that twice wasn’t a _pattern_. They were just very unlucky mistakes or accidents that he had gotten dragged into.

But now- _for real this time -_ It would be the end.

No more Asami. Akihito wasn’t gonna get involved anymore. He didn’t investigate his own kidnapping. He deleted the disc drive. He didn’t look into Inspector Saito. Even Though Saito had gone on to do a press conference later that day after Kino and Akihito had seen him, and made up some nonsense like the police were the ones who had uncovered a small cell of Chinese gangsters and gunfire was exchanged.

No more going down the endless rabbit hole that was Asami Ryuichi…

And yet, the man still had his goons on him? Couldn’t Asami tell that Akihito had conceded defeat in that department? Didn’t he know that Akihito was a pitiable useless thing when it came to Asami? That he threw away all his pride and everything he ever held dear when it came to the man?

Wasn’t that _humiliation_ enough?

Now he was just throwing salt on the wound.

Asami probably knew he had moved. It was a big enough deal for it to get reported to him. Was Asami going to get some report about how Akihito had spicy ramen for dinner tonight with his friends? Akihito scoffed to himself.

He was just getting increasingly angry and tired of it all. He paused and decided to go into a grocery shop to run some errands, and when he came out about 15 minutes later with a bag. He sees the familiar unmarked car parked across the way.

He walks straight over to it. The man inside is tall and round-faced. He looks a little on the older side, maybe in his 30s. He’s wearing a moderately nice dark-colored suit. Akihito has noticed it's been the same guy for the last week.

As Akihito gets nearer to the car, the man appears to be reading the newspaper. But Akihito saw how his eyes flash for a moment in the side mirror as he neared.

Akihito comes up to the driver's car door and knocks on the window. The man ignores him at first. Akihito knocks again.

“Come ooonnn… I got to talk to you,” He calls as he persistently knocks on the window.

The man finally turns around and gives Akihito a blank look. He sighs exaggeratedly and proceeds to open the window.

“What?” He says in almost a growl.

Akihito leans in on the car door with one hand and really lays out the snide tone. “SO I thought of a great idea! How about, instead of you following me around all day- you could just give me a ride! Wouldn’t that be nice! That way, you’ll really know where I am! Imagine! You won't have to tell your boss you lost me in the subway station again. It’ll save so much time and effort-”

The man starts closing his car window in Akihito’s face.

“-Hey, now! It would help out a lot, y’know. I have this bag of groceries I got to carry around! You’re already paid hourly. What difference does it make? Come on! Give a guy a break, y’know. It’s Sunday!”

But the man continues to ignore him and completely shuts the window.

Akihito knocks on the window once more. “-come on! It’s called **_carpooling_** , y’know! Don’t you care about the environment!” He begins to yell at him.

But it’s not getting through, and he gives up. Akihito tsk’s and turns around.

_Was that even worth it…_

He thinks on it. He can imagine Asami getting a bit of a kick out of his outburst. But he’s hoping the message will clear - “Leave me the heck alone, or I’ll make a fool out of your goons.”

Akihito groans slightly, realizing he’ll now have to ditch the tail just because he wants to piss this random goon off.

* * *

Over the next few days, Akihito had fully moved into his new apartment, but he realizes a few things.

For one, the round-faced goon was apparently very angry about his little outburst from before and was making his displeasure very apparent. Now, the round-faced goon that Akihito had taken to calling "random goon" was following him everywhere and even closer than before.

Not that it was that invasive. It honestly only made it slightly harder to lose him- but not by much.

But it was annoying.

He’d go down in his sweatpants on a random Friday afternoon to get more chips at the convenience store. And ‘random goon’ would be there waiting for him by the checkout, looking like he had just made a mental note about what brand of chips he was just buying.

Sometimes Akihito even got the feeling ‘random goon’ would snap pictures of him from his cell phone when he wasn’t paying attention.

Was this what it was like when he pursued a target? He certainly never followed anyone into the grocery store before and took notes about what they were buying.

But now, it was making Akihito imagine Asami getting briefings about when and where he shopped, with pictures attached of him in his sloopy-lookin loungewear. Obviously, it was a little ridiculous. Asami didn’t…or at least _shouldn’t_ … have that kind of time to be nosing in on his life like this.

But it made Akihito a little weary, especially with the thought of that stupid line Asami had said, _“You belong to me,”_

Akihito had yet to really have a moment to muse over that. Was it just some hot-headed heat of the moment kind of cheesy line… or was Asami serious?

_*Internally groaning*_

And so there was only one thing he could think to do. Why or where he had come up with this new plan of his- it didn’t matter because all he cared about was, and I quote, “sticking it to Asami.”

And he had thought of the best way to stick it to him.

* * *

Asami's luncheon conferences were usually pretty drab- he preferred the black-tie affairs over _luncheons_. At least, he had an excuse to down a few champagne flutes or have a cigar with some of his business associates.

But at luncheon, day-drinking was especially frowned upon.

It was also the norm for our young crime lord to leave his apartment around lunchtime- so a luncheon meeting meant he actually had to get up earlier than normal. But of course, he never let any of his mild annoyances show on his face.

The luncheon was taking place at one of his hotels. The conference hall was booked, and the caterers had been sent in. But he just had breakfast, so actually, he wasn’t even here for the food.

Instead, he got himself some coffee and decided to sneak outside to where some of the patio seating was in the front entrance of the hotel.

He slumped into the chair and got out his box of Dunhill’s, lighting up with ease and putting his lighter back into his pocket. He enjoyed it all for a moment—the peace and quiet, with some white noise of the city center just in front of him. 

It was a semi-crowded street, with some people going about their day on the pavement. He was in a trendy part of town where lots of shops and restaurants were open.

He found himself people-watching while he smoked his cigarette and drank his coffee. He only had 10 or so moments to spare before he’d be missed.

He was not expecting a chime to go off from his phone, in his inner pocket, indicating a text message had been received. But he thought nothing of it as he opened his phone.

It was a text message with a photo attached and no message. The little thumbnail of the photo alarmed him enough to click on it.

It was a photo of him, sitting on the patio as he was right now. The photo had been taken a few moments before.

He stiffened, and his jaw clenched. A steeliness took over his feature as he quickly looked around, trying to find the angle of where the photo had been taken from. His only thought that it’s some kind of threat or danger that has yet to reveal itself.

His phone chimes again as another message is sent from the same number, and he quickly looks at it.

"Is that a latte?" It writes.

Asami’s eyes narrow. _Eh?_

And then it chimes again. “I just realized it probably wasn’t the best idea to send that without an explanation considering your occupation…” it reads.

His phone chimes again with 3rd message. “I just wanted you to know that _two_ can play this game, and I happened to be a _professional_ at surveillance,”

Asami’s still at a loss, but then the next message tells him all he needs to know.

“Unlike your blockhead goons!” 

Asami slumps into his chair, breathing a sigh of relief. No danger. Only an idiot. There was only one person stupid enough…

“Takaba…” He writes back. “How did you get this number?”

He suddenly recalls that earlier this week, the man he put on Akihito had reported that he came up to the car and cheekily asked to ‘carpool.’ Asami remembers chuckling at the report. But now it seems Akihito had enough of getting tailed that he was "retaliating"

His phone chimes, right away, “Haha - I have super-secret sources and top-notch detective skills.”There's a pause, and then another one is sent. “Just kidding. You called ME, remember?! How did you get MY number?” And then he continues, “Why do you have your idiot men following me around? They even follow me into the grocery store!? Are my snack preferences that important to the great Asami Ryuichi?

Asami scoffs. He recalled now that he _had_ called Akihito’s number when he found out he had the disc. But hadn’t recognized the number in the moment of alarm.

“Why don’t you come down here, and we can talk like adults, Takaba?” Asami writes back.

There's a pause, and his phone rings, and he answers it with a; “Aren’t you a little old for a rebellious phase, Takaba?” Asami says, he cranes his neck around, still looking for the lad to suddenly appear within view.

“Come on now! Call off your goons, Asami. Why did they come back? It’s been almost 3 weeks already.”

Asami scoffs. “Why did they come back? I don’t know, Takaba. Maybe, it has something to do with the fact the last time I took my eyes off of you for five minutes, you came into possession of a highly secretive USB drive and got kidnapped by a cell of Chinese mobsters.” His voice hardened by sarcasm.

“I-I - Th-that was a crazy coincidence! I got handed that USB drive, by pure chance, and you know it! And by the way, the only reason I got caught was because I was TRYING to do the _right_ thing and give it back to you! You have no reason to sick your guards on me - Asami, I-I’m trying to move on. Please.”

That last part came out pretty heartfelt, and yet the words prick to hear.

The boy had a point…

There was no _real_ reason for Asami to be tailing him. He had no _real_ excuse or pretense he could even make up anymore. He had gotten Kino to keep tabs on him… and why exactly he had even bothered to do that, still escaped him.

He had no real reason to hold on, and yet here he was…

 _Move on? I haven’t given you permission._ Is perhaps what he felt like saying…

But instead, he just sighs wearily. He’s still too determined not to let him win on this. And so he comes up with a new line of attack.

“Do you call this…moving on, Takaba?” Asami pointed out.

It was a surprisingly a pretty bold move from Akihito. To show up here and more or less suggested he’d be following Asami. And that he was going to use whatever he found out _against_ Asami.

Asami though was not in the least bit threatened by his suggestions. But it was still pretty cheeky of him to come over here- he should expect no less from Akihito.

The boy groans irritatedly on the line, “How else I am supposed to _reason_ with you? I have no choice but to be a little thorn in your side! So are you gonna do it? Are they gonna back off, or do I have to follow you around all day and be a nuisance?”

He was unusually testy and determined today, Asami muses on.

“Do I get something in return…” A smirk lines his lips when he responds.

“S-shut up! How about I don’t kick your ass the next time I see you - you dirty bastard!”

Asami's smirk only grew wider because he could picture the indignation on the boy's face right now. While he’d simultaneously attempted to cover up a crimson blush, which was probably currently growing on his face right now.

Asami laughed. “Are you blushing, Akihito?” He asks jokingly, “Hmm? ‘Moving on’ eh? Perhaps you should be more honest with yourself, Takaba?”

Asami doesn’t wait for a stupefied Akihito to respond because he looks up and sees Kirishima and Suoh clearly looking for him, as the meeting is probably likely starting and he is missing in action.

“You should go home, Takaba…I hear you’re new apartments pretty nice.”

 _No need to thank me for that…_ Asami thinks that part, as he knows if he told the boy the building belonged to him, it would be a meltdown waiting to happen.

He hangs up, not waiting for a reply, and gets up from his seat, and walks towards Kirishima and Suoh. The two are holding the door open for him and looking at him with questioning eyes.

“That bratty photographer around, I believe he’s holed up in that parking garage across the way…round him up for me- won’t you?” He asks them nonchalantly and without any explanation.

Turns out luncheons were okay…

* * *

OMAKE: 

Suoh and Kirishima watch as their boss turns tail and heads casually into the conference center. He was more than a few moments late, but they dared anyone to say anything about it.

As soon as the man is out of ear shot, Kirishima exhales exacerbated. "HUMPFT," He takes out the couple thousand yen notes he had in his pocket and deposits them on Suoh's awaiting palm. 

Suoh scrunched up the notes in his hand, with a wide smirk growing on his features as he places them in his own pocket. "Told you it was the photographer..."

"I couldn't believe it," Kirishima responds dejectedly.

"He's the only one, I know that can make the boss smirk like that."

Kirishima only groans in response. 

"Should we place bets on whether or not the boys can catch him?" Suoh asks as he's about to talk on the headset to relay the boss's orders about 'collecting' the Takaba boy.

The two exchange a look with each other.

"I would rather not be losing any more money today..." Kirishima finally responds. His eyes narrow, and he turns on his heel to follow Asami back into the conference hall.

Suoh chuckles after him. "Me neither." He says before he speaks into his headgear. He'll tell the lads to - try to their best.


	18. Part three, Ch 1: Side Hustle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo - 
> 
> me showing up over a month late 😭😭
> 
> but I am excited to start part three ❤️❤️
> 
> i know Asami's not in this a lot but he will be in the next chapter a lot more.

“Hold it right there.”

“Here?”

“Yeah perfect.”

*Click* Click*

“This way now."

“YES!…You're really experienced with this…”

*Click*Click*

“How are these gonna look?” The man asks Akihito.

“I think they’re gonna look _really_ good. I got to say I am not used to people really knowing their angles y’know.” Akihito responds with a flash of a grin, he briefly looks at some of the photos on the tiny digital screen on his Nikon Z7.

He was pretty satisfied with how the pictures were coming out, impressed that his subject seemed very comfortable in front of the camera. The _usual_ investigative photojournalist spent much of his time photographing subjects that would probably have preferred staying out of his lens.

But! You gotta pay the rent somehow.

That was how Akihito Takaba found himself working on a pretty superficial puff piece for the Weekly Headline. For this… hotshot over here. Kiyomi Niwa, an up and coming member of the Diet.

One of the younger members, who had made national news recently. Akihito was tapped to do some portrait photos for the piece. Not exactly the most _thrilling_ piece of journalism he ever worked on - but sometimes these filler pieces need to be done and done right too.

At least, the photoshoot was going marginally better than he had expected. While they were making plans to do the photoshoot, Niwa suggested the shot should take place at a country club called, The Stanwick.

Akihito groaned upon hearing the request. The Stanwick Club is a members-only establishment popular with the political elite. It’s located in the Ginza district not too far from the National Diet Building. It’s an old school gentleman club or country club.

Not all too dissimilar to a certain _night club_ in Shinjuku, a fact that did not go unnoticed by our photographer. _But_ even he had known about the Stanwich club before he had ever stepped foot into Sion. It was a much older and widely known version, one that was often in the society pages or in the newspaper.

It was a club that was considered more _family-friendly_ than Club Sion. It closed at 10 pm and served breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They organized golf excursions, and it was notorious with the society ladies for their afternoon tea and society luncheon events.

It was altogether very different than Sion, but that didn’t mean Akihito wasn’t immediately suspicious of it. He wouldn’t put it past that some members of the Stanwick were also probably members of Sion, too.

The photographer agreed to the photo shoot, on the grounds that the interior would make for a good on-site location. But he did some much-needed background information on the club - JUST in case, there was any relation to any certain crime lord he knew.

There was no connection to be found. At least, what a quick bit of research could gauge.

And yet, on the day of the photoshoot he was still a little antsy. Every tall man in a well-tailored suit made Akihito do a bit of a double-take. But what was there to be antsy about. Surely Asami didn’t have the time to bother him at a photo shoot. But it was the kind of place, where one might accidentally bump into the man. And he would rather save himself the hardship.

The whole shoot, Niwa was pretty busy. He took calls and spoke in hushed tones to aids and members of his staff whenever they went on breaks, or when they moved from room to room.

Niwa was simultaneously taking some interview questions- the interviewer was not Kino for once. But another writer from the Weekly Headline that was frankly not very nice, nor very good at his job. He seemingly cut off our photographer from doing any of the _investigatory_ things Akihito normally did on projects like this and sequestered him to take _only_ the staged photographs.

Akihito didn’t appreciate being sidelined, but the writer wanted to be in charge of the story. And apparently, he had heard the rumors that Takaba Akihito, had a tendency to be a little pushy.

Plus, the journalist had something about wanting to have a good relationship with Niwa who had a “bright future ahead of him,” so he’d only ask the softball questions.

Although, this was Akihito we’re talking about. So he couldn’t _exactly_ just stay on the sideline. Throughout the morning session, Akihito would often just butt into their conversation and ask a follow up question that had a little bit more teeth to it. For which earned him a disparaging look from the journalist.

But it’s not like he went over the top with his questions. In fact, in all honest Akihito was actually kinda respecting Niwa. He was a 30-something, mildly good looking, diet member, who was a pretty straight arrow. His answers, even to the more toothy things, struck Akihito as honest and blunt.

Akihito had dealt with other politicians before that could be evasive, or else their lines were scripted partisan bullshit. So all in all, Niwa seemed like a decent chap. The fact that he was doing pretty well in front of a camera, and was communicating helpfully about how the photos should be done. Akihito ended up feeling like the shoot had gone better than he had expected.

“I guess we’re planning on taking a lunch break or something,” Akihito said as he finished up showing some of the photographs to Niwa.

“Right. Well, guess I’ll see you after it then- would you mind Takaba-san if I got your business card. I want to keep it my file in case I need another photographer.” Niwa replied earnestly.

Akihito’s a little taken aback. A diet member asking him for _his_ business card. He blinks. “Ugh. Yeah sure- it’s just in my camera bag.” He responds sheepishly and scratches the back of his neck, then he swiftly turns around to grab one in his bag and hands it to the man.

“Thanks.” Niwa flashes a smile, while he places the card in his inner suit pocket. “In my line of work, it’s always good to know a competent photographer.”

“T-thanks!” Akihito responds appreciatively. He definitely feels a little smugly about it, especially when the Weekly Headline journalist that had been giving him a hard time all day face goes a little sour as he watches the exchange.

 _Can’t go everywhere just by being a kiss-ass, can you?_ Akihito thinks to himself, and then he turns around to collect his things and put some things away. They were gonna re-convene in an hour, after a lunch break. But Akihito didn’t want to leave his things lying around, so he cleaned up a bit while the room started to clear of people.

While he was organizing himself, his mind started to wonder. The photoshoot had turned out well, and there was no sign of Asami. He was starting to feel like maybe he had over-worried. Or maybe it was because he was overthinking Asami…

It had been over a month since the kidnapping, and two weeks since his little "follow Asami gag". Which hadn’t _exactly_ worked.

It had worked in the sense that Asami’s goons had become a little less obvious and since then, and had given him a bit more space. But they were still following him. It had ended up being kinda a close call too since after finishing the call with Asami a gaggle of goons started chasing him down. They had probably been sent out by Asami to collect him.

Fortunately, he had plenty of time to escape and he bolted away before that could happen. But it could have easily gone pretty wrong for him.

He was starting to think his plea of ‘moving on’ had finally done the job in repelling Asami once and for all. Although he still couldn’t understand why he was still being followed by Asami’s men. It gave him the instinct impression that Asami wasn’t exactly done with him…

But why should he be overthinking a simple photoshoot? Where had his mind come up with some fantastical thing- like Asami was going to crash his photoshoot just because it happened to be taking place at a Country Club that was similar to Club Sion.

Of course, the man didn’t have time for the likes of him. That guy was probably getting sick of all of Akihito’s intrusions on his turf. Sure, he had run into Akihito that time at the fundraiser and had thoroughly rubbed it his face.

But what was the likelihood of that happening again? In fact. Asami was undoubtedly not even thinking twice about the photographer…

So why was Akihito thinking about him…

Akihito rolled his eyes, scolding himself for such ideas. He grumbled to himself lightly “…such a bastard…”

When suddenly he felt a presence behind him, the photographer was startled. He flinches and spins around

It was a young girl in a waiter's uniform, who ended up being just as startled by his sudden movement.

“Oh- I am sorry! You scared me!” Akihito said sighing in relief and bring his hands up defensively.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” The girl starts. Akihito was getting a good look at her and his features relaxed once he recognized her, “It’s good to see Akihito-kun.”

“Omg. Naomi Tokashiki?” Akihito's mouth turned upward and he grinned at the girl, and then came towards her for a hug. “It’s been so long! I didn’t know you moved to Tokyo.”

“Yeah, I moved pretty recently. I thought I recognized you while you were working away. So you're still doing photography, I see. I’m so glad. It really suited you in High School.”

Akihito flashed a grin and sheepishly rubbed his neck. Naomi Tokashiki was an old High School classmate. He was very close with her back in those days. But admittedly, hadn’t seen or heard from her since he left home.

“Uh. Yeah. I am still doing photography. I am a- ugh freelancer.” He responds bashfully. “What have you been up to?”

“Oh- I work here. It’s nothing too exciting….Would you—“ She started off a little shy. “Would like to grab lunch actually?…I heard you guys were on your lunch break.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Why not. I only brought a boring bento box anyway.”

* * *

Across the street from the Stanwich club was a little hole in the wall family restaurant that served Ramen. It was apparently a staple restaurant for many of the employees at the Stanwich.

And so Naomi took Akihito there, for a quick lunch. It had certainly been a hardier meal than his homemade bento box he was planning on eating. They caught up with each other and talked about what they’ve been doing since High School.

“I still see Kou and Takato pretty regularly,” Akihito explained.

Naomi laughed. “I would be so thoroughly disappointed if you hadn’t! I mean you three were like three peas in a pod back in school…So what is it like being a freelance photographer? It sounds so mysterious.” She joked.

“Well, I am an investigative journalist normally for the Weekly Headline, actually.”

“You work for the Weekly Headline! That sounds so impressive. It’s like - exactly what you wanted to do when you were in High School.”

Akihito sat up straighter and answered sheepishly. “Yeah. Sometimes I gotta do the average photoshoots like today, but other times…” His voice trailed off and he grins, “I get to do the more exciting stories like about corruption and crime. It can be a little dangerous sometimes, but its very satisfying when all the pieces come together and you get a real scoop.”

Noami grins. “Look at you, Mr. doing-what-you-love…I’m really happy for you. You always used to be a hard worker. Doing that photoshoot with Kiyomi Niwa- you make it sound so average but it seems like a big deal to me.”

“Ha. I guess.” Akihito rubbed his neck, not used to such praise. “But I mean, I guess you see Diet Member’s and others like Niwa probably more than me..." He found himself asking a follow-up question, "Can I ask what is Niwa like at the club, when he's not answering softball questions?”

“I guess I do see some interesting people…" Her voice trailed off. "As for Niwa..." She leaned in as if giving Akihito the low dow. "He seemed like he is actually one of the good ones. He always tips nicely compared to the other's…Are you doing a story on Niwa? Like investigating him?” She asks curiously

“Oh, I wish it was something as interesting as that. I am not really in charge of what gets written. I was just asked to take photos of him, for some kind of - puff piece. I am not particularly thrilled about it myself…But it is what it is. Anyway. What about you? What have you been up to? How did you get this job?”

She scoffs playfully “My mom actually suggested I get this job- she thought it would be the perfect place to find ‘husband material’ or something.” She says with an eye roll.

Akihito laughs, “Oh I completely understand how pesky moms can be.” He says understandingly. Her struggles sounded a bit like Akihito's own mother’s hints at wanting Akihito to settle down, or move back home.

“I was living in Osaka for a while with my ex. And then I came back up here to be with my parents. They wanted me to be a little bit closer to them in Yokohama.” Akihito nodded and she continued. “Parents y’know. Maybe in their day you could have just bat your eyelashes and found yourself a new rich husband or something. But nowadays, these people hardly even look twice at people like me that serve them their food. I don’t doubt that most of them probably already have their wives, their mistresses lined up. People like me- we’re meant to be grateful to even just be the _side hustle_.” Her words take on a harshness and bluntness to them that they hadn’t before, it sounded vaguely like resentment.

Akihito’s initially taken aback by her sharpness. But it also seemed to ring very true in his own ears. I mean how many photos had he taken of the wealthy and privileged in the midst of affairs. He could definitely understand how she felt working in the service industry and being treated like you were disposable.

But her words also dig at something else.

 _Side hustle_ , was it? That seemed to sting in the photographer's chest in a way he wasn’t prepared for. He was all too familiar with that kind of wound. He looked down at his shoes.

Was that what he was to Asami?…

It wasn’t that much of a stretch to think so. What did Akihito even know about Asami, really?

He was old enough to be married, and have kids of his own- a particularly nauseating though. He probably had a ton of other lovers. In fact, he probably met a new person every week.

Why did it even matter to Akihito if that was the truth? Why did it even hurt to think about that? Akihito had said to himself a hundred times that the man meant _nothing_ to him.

_So what if he sleeps with others. So what if he’s married with kids- it’s not a blemish on you, thats on him._

And yet it still hurt to think that Asami was using him for nothing more than bodily fulfillment. Although he was telling himself that the real reason it hurt was because the man had utterly thrown his life and sense of himself out the window. He had come barging in on the photographer's life with no care about how twisted and confused it had all made him- and Asami had done it all for nothing more than just some primal needs.

“You okay, Akihito?” Naomi’s voice took him out of his musings.

He sat up straighter and cleared his throat. “Ugh. Yeah. Sorry. Just - I was just thinking about what you said…” Akihito looks out the window for a moment, Akihito swallowed before answering. “Believe it or not…I know exactly what you mean.”

There's another pause before he continues. “That why I really love my job sometimes, I feel like for once I get to be the one that makes sure there are consequences for their actions. They shouldn’t get away with treating us like nothing, and then turn around and pretend they're _something else_.…They don’t get to hide who they really are- at least not from my lens.”

Noami’s taken aback by the sentiment. “Thats really well said Akihito…I get it- like you get to take matters into your own hands…”

* * *

Once lunch was over, Akihito heads back to the Stanwich Club. Apparently, the Journalist working on the story thought that there were enough photographs for the piece. And that he was going to conduct the rest of the interview on his own- without Akihito’s assistance.

“Well great…” Akihito grumbled to himself as he packed up his supplies.

He was feeling a little embarrassed especially since he had felt like he had bragged a bit about his job when he had talked with Naomi, and now reality was hitting him square in the face. He was nothing more than a part-timer, who could easily be kicked to the curb.

At least, Niwa had asked for his business card and maybe he would have a new client or something. Not that he was particularly grateful, thinking of Niwa hiring him to do headshots or something. But Niwa could make for a nice contact. Maybe if they got on good terms he could ask him for scoops or simply get a quote about newsworthy things happening every once in a while.

He packed his things up and headed back to the Weekly Headline, to drop off some of the items he had used on loan for the shoot. He would show what he had to the editors before he did some editing. But he wanted them to know that his photoshoot was cut short - and not by his own making. And if they didn’t like the photos he had, or there weren’t enough, then he was not to be blamed for it.

A part of the photographer knew he didn’t always play by the book, which meant he rubbed some people in the newsroom the wrong way. There was a ton of competition amongst the journalist and photographers. He might be viewed by some as trying to poach stories or trying to wrangle his way into getting a percentage of the payout - or else trying to get credit in form of an extra byline.

But Akihito was not petty like that- he wasn’t Mitarai who practically was always trying to get a cut of a story.

All he wanted was to ask the real questions and push past some of the bullshit. But that had a way of upsetting some of the other journalists. Luckily though. There was one journalist in the newsroom that was always on his side. After he arrives at the Weekly Headline and has a quick check-in with his boss about the photoshoot, and then he drops off some material he used in the media room.He plumps down next to Kino’s desk in the bullpen.

The journalist was in the midst of typing. Her nose was up as she carefully read and watched what she was doing. She didn’t turn to look at him even as he sat down next to her. But he was used to that way about her. When she was busy, or on a tear - she’d want you to wait until she was finished with her thought, or else she’d chastise you for interrupting her chain of thought.

“Naokazu Kitagawa. Have you heard of him?” Kino asks Akihito. She still hadn’t greeted him or even looked away from her computer screen.

Akihito perked an eyebrow up in interest. “The minister of foreign affairs.”

“Correct,” She answered, but she was still working.

Silence reigned for a few more moments before she finally stopped what she was typing and looked over at Akihito.

“Sorry, just a busy day for me.” She acknowledged him finally. “How are you? I thought you were working on that Diet member Niwa photoshoot?” She asked.

“Well… let's just say it got cut a little short…” He didn’t really want to explain the details.

“Well, the editor has me working on a story about Kitagawa. He says he’s gotten some whispers in the rumor mill about him. Saying that he might be stepping down and it would be nice to get enough sources on board for a proper story, and maybe do some digging to find out why?” Kino continued. “Isn’t this right up your alley? Unless you're working on something else?”

“You know I am generally interested in whatever story I can get my hands on. However...I need to finish up this Niwa stuff…I could start to ask around if you want. See what comes up. When’s your deadline?” Akihito asks.

“Whenever we get any breaking news- could be a prolonged thing until someone talks. Won’t you be finishing with the Niwa stuff by tomorrow? I could really use a _real_ investigator on this…” Her voice trails off, like the way it does when she wants something from Akihito.

Akihito signs. “Yeah. Okay. Fine. You got me. I am in. Can I get started on it tomorrow then?”

“Thank you, Akihito,” She says flashing him a wide and playful smile. “I’ll buy you drinks when this all over,” She promises.

“Right, right.” 

Akihito headed back to his apartment, where he had the right programs he used for his photo editing on his computer at home. He wanted to get to work cleaning up and fixing some of the photos of Niwa. It would be a quiet evening in his apartment working on these photos.

But as he’s coming back home, a thought comes to mind. Naokazu Kitagawa, the minister of foreign affairs. Wouldn’t he be a member of the Stanwich club….

It was exactly the kind of place where he would probably be a member….and Akihito had just met someone who worked there and could potentially know some things.

He had exchanged numbers with Naomi, surely it wouldn’t hurt to just ask her if he was- and what her thoughts were about him? She had told him about Niwa when he had asked. Was it a stretch to ask her for such things…

He decided to do it anyway. It may be a long shot but, who knows, maybe she’s seen something or heard something about Kitagawa. Maybe if he just asked her to keep her ears peeled for anyone talking about Kitagawa at the club. He was sure that _some_ diet members were probably at least gossiping about the rumor. Maybe he should even try to ask Niwa...

He sent a text to Naomi asking about Kitagawa, she wrote back almost immediately.

“Are you working on something on Kitagawa? Another corruption scandal perhaps?” She wrote back. She sent some side-eye emoji, too and another message greeted Akihito, “You want me to be on the lookout for you?!”

Her words seemed to indicate that she was taking in interest- she had seemed genuinely interested in his job when they had lunch. And it was even looking like she was actually interested in becoming a source.

He shot back a quick follow up, he wanted to be honest and frank. “I just wanna warn you… talking to a journalist could land you into trouble with your bosses, as I am sure the Stanwich Club values its member's privacy. Don’t do anything you're not comfortable with. Just - if you hear something. I might be interested. You can also tell me it - off the record if you feeling weird about sharing something. I don’t wanna force you into doing something you’re not comfortable with.”

“I understand. I am a big girl. Honestly...What you said today really got be thinking about things. I wanna help! If I have to have this shitty job. I at least want to do something useful with it. Plus, I feel like I am in a spy thriller and you’ve asked me to put a wire on or something.” She replied back.

Her enthusiasm was so very obvious to Akihito, that the photographer couldn't help but be pleased with her response. Here he had thought that Diet Member Niwa could become an interesting source of information but it was actually Naomi who turned out to be the far more interesting one.

“Wow. I am really blown that you wanna help. I would really appreciate it. Even just some tips can be really helpful, even if you think it might not be anything. Just let me know if you hear anything.”

Akihito couldn’t help but feel really pleased with this new development as he walked into his apartment. He had somehow convinced Naomi to become a source, at a club like the Stanwich. It might as well be getting a source at Club Sion-.... Well, he took that back. Not quite. But it was something to be celebrated at least.

He settles in for the day, as he still has some work ahead of him finishing up the Niwa stuff. But he was decidedly in a much better mood.

* * *

Meanwhile, someone across town was in a foul mood.

Not that it was unusual for our young crime lord, at around this time when you're faced with the long night ahead of you. A mountain of paperwork that needed to be done, not to mention all the calls he had to make...

Had he always been this irritable? He thinks with a groan, and he rubs his forehead.

He needed a cigarette break. He digs into his pocket for his trusty box of Dunhills and takes out a lighter that was next to it as well. He lights up, relishing in that moment of familiarness and warmth that instantaneously floods his system.

He takes a nice drag, closing his eyes and letting his head have this moment of clarity. Before he slowly exhales out his mouth and opens his eyes. He rolls his head back into his chair and stares at the ceiling for a moment. Contemplating the splitting headache he was getting from all the reading. The cigarette still dangles from his mouth as he sighs.

He decides to switch tasks. There was another stack of paperwork on his desk, that Kirishima had already verified for him, and they needed a signature. So it was time to do the lighter mental work of signing or initialing his name until his hand starts to cramp.

But before he can start his cell phone chimes. The phone is sitting on his desk, and he can see that he’s received a text message- from his man on Takaba Akihito. He perks up with interest.

It’s not like he was _always_ getting reports on Akihito’s whereabouts…decidedly not… It was only if something interesting happened, or if the photographer was doing something he probably shouldn’t. But it had _somehow_ turned into weekly mini-briefings.

Asami, of course, told himself that it was nothing more than being cautious about a potential security breach - although why he had to _personally_ oversee everything had even confounded his secretary. But that was beside the point.

This briefing though was sent a little bit earlier than anticipated, indicating to Asami that the photographer was maybe up to something he shouldn’t be.

He opens the message, seeing their last few exchanges from the last week. A picture of a sleeping Akihito on a train, and one of him drinking with his friends. But two new pictures were now added to the message.

A photo of Akihito and an unknown girl, laughing and smiling while they sat in a window seat bar of a ramen restaurant. The steely expression on Asami’s face didn’t change, he was far too placid for anything to show on his face. His eyes went to the next photo, both Akihito and the girl walking into the entrance of a place he was familiar with.

 _The Stanwich Club?_ Asami’s eyes narrowed. _What the heck was he doing at the Stanwich?_

What surprised him more, was he was using the front entrance- not sneaking in. He wanted some explanation…There were a lot of members at the Stanwich, that could be tied to him and his business…

“Have you ID’ed the girl?” Asami asks first and somehow instinctively, “What was he doing at the Stanwich Club?”

The response comes swiftly. “I have not yet ID'ed the girl, but her uniform is from the Stanwich. He was at the Stanwich for some photoshoot, he brought in and left with a lot of equipment. Thats all I know sir. I can l look into it some more.”

Asami rubs his lips, again his eyes land on the photo of a smiling Akihito out at lunch with this unknown girl. His brow twitches.

He replies back quickly. “Do it,”

* * *

Akihito yawned as he briskly walked just outside of his apartment, he was walking towards the train station heading into work today. He had worked late into the night, later than he had anticipated finishing up all those photos. He had sent the photos off to his editor a little earlier this morning.

He was going in to speak to the editor to finish up whatever else needed to be done on the Niwa story, and to speak with Kino as well. He wanted to share the fact that Naomi had messaged him this morning and wanted to meet up again today.

He was feeling like she might actually have something interesting to share, given the text she sent. So as walked along he was still pretty pleased with himself kind of mood. He looks down at his cell phone to text his editor that he was on his way to the office. He’s so focused on his cell phone that he nearly walks into a man, who appeared from no where.

He looks up to apologize, “Oh sor-”

His face falls.

“You should watch where you're going, Takaba…” Golden eyes sweep him up and down, although the man's expression is flat and unamused. 

“Wh-what are you-“ Akihito stutters.

“We need to talk.”


	19. Part three, Ch 2: Jumping to Conclusions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops u know when u wanna save it as a draft but then u accidentally post it and your like "oh shit, oh shit oh shit." cause it wasn't done. Thats what this here idiot did 😊
> 
> Anyway, tho it's finished now, so if u got a notification and u were confused.
> 
> Anyway. can you believe?! another update within a reasonable time frame! I'm on a roll! 
> 
> although I am currently moving to a different writing program and I want to add everything from all my fics to it. so like that's gonna be a big project 🤬🤬 we'll see how that goes... ha.ha.😵
> 
> anyway enjoy 🥰🥰

Akihito’s struggling to form words. He points in the direction he was heading. “But I was-...work.” 

Forming complete sentences had failed him completely because his mind was doing some mental gymnastics trying to figure out why in the hell Asami was here.

What had he done this time that warranted Asami's presence?

Asami only responds to the boy's garble of words is by giving a curt little nod, but it's not to Akihito. It’s to Suoh and Kirishima, who suddenly appears behind the boy. Akihito looks frantically between the two, as he hadn’t seen them appear behind him. The two men pick him up from either side rather gently and lift him just slightly off the ground.

“What the- H-HEY!” Akihito protests, he tries to scramble out of their grip.

But they simply just walk away with him in their grip. Asami opens the door to the limo, which is a few steps away, and they gently toss him in. Asami follows in after him and closes the door behind him. 

Akihito had landed on the back seat with a plop. He whisks his head around so fast. Angry eyes flash at Asami, who’s sitting calmly across from him, legs crossed.

“WHAT THE HELL, ASAMI!” Akihito says, stammering, and he picks himself off the seat. 

“I don’t have time for your usual bouts of complaining, Takaba,” Asami says flatly. Just then, the car jerks forward, and they drive away from the curb.

Akihito straightens out on the seat, “Well then, what the hell is it!?” He says impatiently. 

“Are you working on the Kitagawa story?” Asami asks, getting straight down to business. 

_The Kitagawa story?_ The assignment Kiko had just assigned him yesterday, about rumors that the minister of foreign affairs was about to resign. 

“I-I got assigned to it yesterday,” Akihito starts, taken aback that Asami even knows that. “H-how do you know that?” His eyes narrow.

Akihito probably shouldn’t be that surprised that Asami knows, since there was still one of his goons following him around. 

Asami avoids the bulk of his questioning, “And what have you found out so far?” 

Akihito pauses and looks at Asami bewildered. He was expecting the man to sidestep his questions, but what in God's name was he after? Was he interested in the Kitagawa story? But why?

He begins to answer slowly. His mind is still scraping together some rhyme or reason for all of this. “…I haven’t done anything on it yet, I just got assigned it, and I was finishing anoth-“

“Takaba. I don’t have time for our usual banter today.” Asami leans forward, his voice taking a bit of an impatient tone. “I know you're working on a story about Naokazu Kitagawa. So just tell me what you’ve been digging into.” 

Akihito leans back in his seat, completely thrown and vexed. “What are you talking about?” 

Asami rolls his eyes and turns around. He digs in his briefcase momentarily and takes out some kind of manila file, which he drops down in the seat next to Akihito. “You were at the Stanwich Club yesterday. You met with someone that works there,” Asami says, his tone getting harder. 

Akihito opens up the file and sees a picture of himself with Naomi at the little shop across the street from the Stanwich Club, where they had enjoyed their lunch yesterday. There’s another picture of Akihito stepping into the Stanwich club front door.

Akihito’s head races. There was SO MUCH to unpack here. 

For starters. There was the whole “what-the-hell-Asami’s-really-doing-surveillance-on-me” thing. Which at this point, he didn’t know why it was still surprising to him.

And while Asami hadn’t used his words, it was clear he thought Akihito was digging into something he shouldn’t. Something that had to do with the Stanwich Club and Kitagawa. But what?

For the Stanwich Club. Okay, Akihito already had a bad feeling about that club from the get-go. Even though he hadn’t made any connections to Asami in the past, the fact that the man was talking to him about it now- seemed proof enough of something going on at the Stanwich that Asami was somehow involved. 

Then there was Kitagawa, the minister of Foreign affairs. The title rings in his head like something familiar, and just like that, a connection between Kitagawa and Asami is suddenly staring him right in the face. One that Akihito had completely blanked on. 

Kitagawa, the minister of Foreign Affairs, had a one-time secretary who became a career politician and member of the Diet. Diet Member Sonda. 

The scoop that had started it all. The one that Yamazaki had given to Akihito all those weeks back that had led the boy straight to breaking into Club Sion and right into Asami’s lap. 

Akihito had followed a scoop about Sonda making a deal with then Club manager of Sion, Yoshida.

Since then and the fall out of the warehouse shoot out, Sonda had resigned. The official reason was some bullshit, “wanting to spend more time with his family.” Akihito had given up on that scoop, just as he had his own kidnapping because he didn’t want to find himself involved with Asami again. Although there had been many loose ends. 

Akihito looks back at the pictures and then back at Asami, and the proverbial light bulb going off in his head. 

Akihito sits back in his seat. He crosses his arms and shakes his head in disbelief. He even flashes a bit of a grin. “Oh, Asami. I think you've really messed up this time…But I mean…This is what happens when you hire amateurs.” He looks back at the photos, all-out grinning. “This is really, really shoddy workmanship. I mean, considering the time of day these were taken, there's really no excuse for them to be so under saturated, and I mean such a muddy palette too. Really disappointing, honestly.”

“Takaba…” Asami slumps a bit in his seat, and his voice sounds like he’s given up, and he rubs his brow.

“I know, I know. You don’t have time for my photography lessons. But if you had just let me explain a minute ago instead of interrupting me and jumping to conclusions. You would have found out that yesterday I was at the Stanwich Club, working on another project that had nothing to with Kitagawa.” Akihito started. “It was a very boring photoshoot with Diet Member Niwa, on location at the Stanwich. And while I was there, I ran into an old high school friend, who happened to work there, and we grabbed lunch and caught up. So I’ll reiterate. I. haven’t. done. anything. on. The Kitagawa case. I just got assigned it.”

Asami still looks us placid and unfazed as he usually does, although he blinks a few extra times. He opens his mouth to say something, but Akihito confidently interjects, as he’s very self-assured after his little rant.

“But gee. Thanks to you, I now know that you're somehow involved in all this. So thanks for that little tip.” He leans in. “Does this have something to do with Sonda and whatever deal he made Yoshida way back when? Or is Kitagawa just one of your cronies or ‘client’ or whatever it is you prefer to call them?” 

He realizes a little too late that maybe he’s crossed a line, and he said things that he shouldn’t have said. Whatever their relationship was, at least Akihito could admit that it was a delicate balance and some of the more prickly issues tended to be left out of the discussion. But in Akihito’s defense- Asami started it.

After his smart-aleck behavior, Asami suddenly appears sitting right next to him, turned towards him. A not very pleased expression on his face. 

“Are you done?” He asks flatly.

Akihito immediately gets flustered by his sudden closeness, and he’s reminded that he should probably shut his trap, so he looks away, “Yes…” he answers meekly. 

“Good cause I want you off the story.” 

Akihito spins his head around, flashing that irate glare that he seems to be known for. He’s about to protest or something, but Asami cuts him off. “I’m asking you nicely…Takaba.” 

And it was partially true in Asami’s mind. There were much worse ways to ask Akihito to stay out of a story.

Akihito scoffs. “Nicely!” He starts off fuming. “Dragging me into a car is what you call nicely?”

“It’s for your own good. Stay away from Kitagawa.” Asami continues to press.

Akihito clicks his tongue together in disapproval. “Y’know Asami… If you wanted me off the case or something. You could have just called like a normal person! Left me a voicemail or something! You didn’t have to go all extra and drag me into your limo,” 

There’s a pause as Asami considers his response. “..How else would I get to see your face, Takaba?” Asami playfully retorts back. 

“S-shut up,” Akihito responds quickly but flustered. He turns his head away and avoids eye contact. 

Asami inches a bit closer, knowing he already has the blond blushing, he gently feathers some blond strands between his fingers. “Takaba…” he says in a low voice. 

“Hey!” Akihito spins around, showing off his flushed face although his anger had seethed more then his embarrassment, “If you want me to agree to this little deal, then you should at least let me leave unmolested, you pervert,”

 _Akihito was getting smarter, wasn’t he_ …Asami thinks. He pauses on that for a moment before responding, with a wolfish smirk, “I’ll let you go. _This time_ …” He relents. 

“Good. And next time, just call me or something.” Akihito responds quickly. He turns around again to stare out the window. Probably hoping the conversation has ended. 

“…But there's absolutely no fun in that.” Asami chuckles a bit and then leans back in his seat. “…Would you have listened if I just left you a message telling you to stay out of it. This way, I think I get my point across.” 

Akihito doesn’t engage in that, although Asami can see him rolling his eyes. 

Asami keeps his side of whatever little deal this is, and about a moment later, Akihito gets dropped off a block away from the Weekly Headline. 

“Stay out of trouble, Takaba,” Asami says as he departs, and he means it too. 

Akihito only responds with some grumbling and fist-waving as he jumps out of the vehicle and puts as much distance between himself and the limo. He heads straight for the Weekly Headline offices.

Asami sighs, watching the boy depart. _Always such bluster_ … He shakes his head warily. 

Kirishima had also suggested that Asami just ‘call,’ or rather the secretary had actually suggested they could just send a man over with the message. But Asami insisted that time be made so he could _personally_ pester Akihito about whatever he had on the Kitagawa.

It was too bad he didn’t have enough time for anything else…But perhaps he would later this week… Asami muses on. 

The limo pulls away, and Asami is sure to message the guard thats on Akihito. He tells him to keep his eyes peels in case Akihito tries anything and he wants regular updates. Asami’s a little distrustful that Akihito can keep himself out of trouble.

He gathered up the photos he had shown Akihito and placed them back in the file. Asami looks at them a little bit more closely this time around. 

He playfully scoffs to himself. _They are a little undersaturated, aren't they..._

Asami’s taken across town to the Stanwich Club, where he’s actually fairly early to an appointment he was heading to. But when he arrives, he receives a message saying that Akihito’s left The Weekly Headline already, and he seems to be on the move.

Asami has a bad feeling about from the get-go. But it has to wait as he’s escorted into the Stanwich Club.

As a special member of the Stanwich, he gets ushered into one of the private rooms in the back. Kirishima follows behind him, and Suoh is down with the car in the parking garage next door. The two do some work while they wait for their 2nd guest, Kitagawa, to arrive. 

Asami makes some calls, and Kirishima has brought some paperwork that can be done in the small office while they wait. But soon, Kitagawa is official late to the meeting they had scheduled. 

And it soon becomes more than just fashionably late, as he is now more than 30 minutes late.

Asami sighs to Kirishima. He doesn’t like to be left waiting.

“Wonder what's holding him up?” Asami says dryly. “Do you think he’s avoiding me…If anything, I would think he’d want to at least pretend he was trying to repairing our relationship,” 

“…” Kirishima remains silent and only turns his glasses up the bridge of his nose. They share a sharp look at each other. 

Akihito had indeed been spot on with his thoughts about Kitagawa being involved in the deal Sonda and Yoshida had made all those weeks ago. And while Yoshida was easy enough to clean up with a bullet to the head for his treachery- Sonda, and Kitagawa had to be dealt with a _lighter_ touch.

Sonda was as corrupt as they come, and it was easy to _convince_ him to resign in a matter of a few days. But Kitagawa was a different kind of trouble. He knew how to keep his nose clean.

So for a few weeks, they played this little cat and mouse game. Where Asami pretended not to know he was truly responsible for the deal with Yoshida, while Kitagawa pretended not to know about anything about Sonda's betrayal. But now that had ended, and Asami was making a move to force his resignation- so someone with more loyalty could be installed as the new Foreign Minister.

The least Kitagawa could do was to keep up appearances.

Akihito should be as far away from all this as possible. And not just cause the boy was nosy. The fact was it was possible that Sonda leaked the name of the photographer that had caused his downfall, and thus Kitagawa's own downfall too. So it was doubly better for Akihito to stay away from it.

Asami signed and looked at his watch. They would probably have to leave soon, although that would leave all sorts of open questions about what to do about Kitagawa now. 

Suddenly, Asami gets a call from Suoh. Perhaps he was calling to let Asami know that Kitagawa was pulling in now, as Suoh had ample view from the parking garage next door. 

“Yes.” He answers quickly. “Is it Kitagawa?” 

“Ugh. No sir. I haven’t seen Kitagawa yet, but uh. Someone else is trying to get into the Stanwich Club…um. It’s the Photographer, sir. Takaba is at the front door.” 

“Your kidding,” Asami replied abrasively.

“It looks like they aren’t letting him in, though. So he’s turning around to leave. He’s uh- lookin around now, and um OH! Oh! Ugh, sir. I am sorry he just vaulted over the wall. He is probably heading inside right now.”

* * *

_Okay, I might be doing something that would get me into some trouble in Asami’s eyes. So good thing I ditched the goon, so none of this could possibly get back to Asami._

Akihito thinks confidently to himself as he jumps up and over a brick way at The Stanwich Club. It leads to a small corner of the outdoor garden, where as luck would have it, no one else was around. 

Thankfully the Stanwich Club was no Club Sion in the security department. It was a surprising little fact that there were quite a lot of politicians around, and having a journalist sneaking around was probably not very good. But at the moment, Akihito’s grateful for it. 

Akihito had tried to keep his end of the deal with Asami. And I mean really tried.

But the problem was that he couldn’t get in contact with Naomi, and they had been planning on meeting today. He told her through text that the story was off and not to bother with Kitagawa anymore. Although who knew what she had wanted to report to Akihito about, hopefully, it was nothing important. They were supposed to meet in about an hour, and yet he still hadn’t received a reply from her.

It was kind of a long shot to even come to the Stanwich club since he didn’t even know if she was working today. But it was more than likely she was just working and hadn’t looked at her phone all day.

All he needs to do is find her and tell her the story is off. If Asami is involved, then it's likely too dangerous for her to be getting involved. The last thing Akihito wants is to get Naomi, his old high school friend, involved in whatever seediness Asami is in to. And the sooner he does it, the better. He couldn’t wait for her to finally reply back especially since he was starting to get a bad feeling about it. 

Plus, he wanted to explain to her in person and give her some kind explanation. She was so eager and expressed such an interest in helping him that she deserved some kind of explanation even if his excuses would be entirely made up.

He admittedly felt a little dirty after his conversation with Asami. After all his speeches and sentiments about ‘exposing the truth,’ which he had lauded to Naomi yesterday. Akihito now basically has to capitulate to a crime lord.

And it wasn’t even because of something dramatic like Asami was actually threatening him. And yes. Maybe some part of him was worried about his own ass. (literally). But wasn’t it simply because Akihito was too much of a coward to have some kind of face-off with Asami. 

Akihito sigh. _Why hadn’t that idiot just called like a normal person! Why did he have to corner me in his limo! He likes torturing me, doesn’t he!_ Akihito grumbles to himself.

He had to knock himself out of it, though, since it was time to start looking for Naomi. The faster he gets this done, the faster he can completely move on from this. 

Plus, he didn’t want to get caught by security here at the Stanwich Club and get a lifetime ban or something. It was likely he'd stick out like a sore thumb like he had in Club Sion all those weeks back, in his jeans and t-shirt. He was a little afraid he might even be recognized since he had tried to get in through the front door not a few moments earlier.

Akihito walks around a corner where there is a little outdoor restaurant, where some people are getting some late lunches and sitting outside. He looks around, trying to see if Naomi was here, but there was a minimum amount of wait staff around. He wasn’t yet desperate to go up to one of the staff to ask where Naomi was. 

So he heads to the indoor portion of the restaurant, but again he doesn't see Naomi amongst the staff. If he heads into the staff area, there was a high chance for him to run into her, but also a high chance to get caught. He doesn’t want to risk it, so he decides to look around a bit more.

Except he ends up getting a bit lost in the clubhouse, and the deeper he goes, the less staff he even begins to see. 

As he’s turning around a corner, he quite suddenly and harshly gets yanked backward. An unseen hand drags him backwards into the nearest open room. The door slams shut behind him, and he’s none to gently shoved back into the closed door and pinned against it. Akihito’s head slams against the door, and he hisses in pain. 

When Akihito’s barrings are finally returned, "Hey!!" He starts and looks up to see who had tossed him around like a ragdoll. He's greeted to dark golden eyes- this time without a trace of amusement in them.

Akihito gulps, knowing he’s really messed up this time.

“You really just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” his stern baritone voice sounds just as furious, and the man shakes his head in disbelief. 

“I-” Akihito rattled response comes out meek, “What are you doing here?” 

Asami's eyes flash even more incensed than before. “What _am I_ doing here? You're the one breaking and entering. What are _you_ doing here?” He points a finger into Akihito’s chest. 

“I was just-“ Akihito tries. 

“It’s been an hour, Takaba?! You couldn’t sit patiently for an hour?” Asami interrupts. "I asked you _nicely_."

“I know how this looks, but I-“

“You ditched the guard I put on you. You hoped over a wall to sneak into the club I told you NOT to go to-. It looks exactly _how it is_ Takaba.” 

“No, you’re misunderstanding!” Akihito starts off, but then a thought occurs to him, and his general predicament is completely forgotten when he ties some information together. “Were you here meeting with Kitagawa?” He can’t help but ask.

Although he instantly regrets it because Asami’s eyes once again flash even more in disbelief and anger, “Takaba?!” 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Akihito swiftly apologizes and puts his hands up defensively. “I was only here because I was trying to make good on our deal. Ugh. I mhhm….might have asked my old high school friend to look into Kitagawa for me…” His voice trails off. Akihito knows he hadn’t mentioned that earlier when Asami explicitly asked him about his investigation into Kitagawa. 

Asami scoffs and rolls his eyes, exasperated. 

“I know. I know. It’s bad. But I was supposed to meet her here today anyway, and I just wanted to tell her that the stories off and t-to stand down and all that stuff. I swear! But she hasn’t gotten back to me.” 

Asami exhales deeply, his shoulders slump. “You really are unbelievable…” His pin against Akihito loosens. “What happened to ‘call like a normal person,’ eh?”

“I-I have been calling her all day, but she hasn’t gotten back to me. I'm only here because I wanted to make sure everything okay. See, I’ll call her right now! It’ll go straight voicemail.” Akihito breaks out his phone and inputs her number. “I swear I just came here to look for her, and she probably doesn’t know anything neither, so don’t do anyth-“

***RING RING***

The phone going off in the silent little room they had been arguing in is almost deafening to the two of them. They had been in such a bubble of their own that the sound is so jarring and strangely eerie. As if they had not been alone this entire time.

The two exchange a confused look. They look at Akihito’s phone and then back at each other. The ringing continues. It sounds close but not close enough to be emanating from either of them. 

_Naomi?_ Akihito thinks as the phone ringing is in tune with his call to her. He bobs his head around the room.

Asami, too, takes a step back from Akihito and scans the room. It's one of the many private rooms in the Stanwich Club, its a small, basic four-walled room with a sitting area and two large windows looking outside. The lights had been off when they had arrived, and it was only lit by the sunlight coming in from the windows. It had just been the first room Asami threw Akihito in.

The ringing continues, and the two take a few steps back towards where they think the source of the sound is coming from.

Asami’s eyes land on it first, and he quickly turns around with hopes of stopping Akihito from seeing it. But the boy is only seconds behind him. Akihito gasps. He frantically tries to rushes forward. His mind is only on help.

“Naomi!” He pushes against Asami to get to her, but Asami holds him back. 

“Don’t,” Asami first block her from view with his body. He scoops the boy towards him and presses him against his chest. He cradles his head and moves to try to cover his eyes. “Don’t look.” 

“She’s-” Akihito chokes up, he frantically turns his head to look away, and he clings to Asami. 

It's already too late as he’s seen her lifeless eyes and blood dripping from her forehead. She’s partially hidden behind the couch, so unequivocally dead that there's no point in even checking for a pulse. 

They stay like that for a moment, as shock freezes them both.

Asami tries to turn Akihito away, his thoughts on getting him out of this room. But suddenly, the boy resists. His mind is racing. He pulls away and backs away from Asami, his face as white as a sheet. 

His eyes are wild, and his voice cracks. “Did you do this?!”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo!!! okay so I was really not expecting this to take so long, but I was really dragging my feet because this is basically the detour episode where they have sex. But honestly, my one weakness is writing smut. (even thou i am not half bad at if if i do say so myself 😏😏😉🔥)  
> BUT i am still always so embarrassed - i don't know maybe other writers can attest to this but i am always like 😳😳 there doing it- y'know like i get embarrassed at myself when I know I shouldn't. Anyway so it always takes a little extra for me to write it. 
> 
> Although not a lot of plot stuff happens in this episode it was still a relatively long episode, and I am really excited and motivated for what happens next so I'll probably update sooner. so Stay tuned 😊😊😊
> 
> 20 chapters 💕💕💕  
> Enjoy!

“No!" Asami responds hard and offended. His brow furrows, actually completely insulted and thrown by the accusation. 

He has all sorts of venom on the tip of his tongue in rebuke of such an outrageous accusation. Yet, when he looks at the boy, his anger can’t help but dry up.

Akihito looks desperate. Pale, on the verge of tears. His dead friend only a few feet away from him. Now wasn’t exactly the time for another one of their spats. Even if Akihito’s quick to judgment accusation gnawed at something within him.

Asami elects to give it a pass. _For now_. There are too many immediate issues in front of him to worry about it.

And plus the way Akihito's face immediately drops, and he shakes his head and covers his mouth with trembling fingers, tells Asami Akihito instantly regretted what he’d just said.

Asami takes him by the wrist and drags him toward the door.

They need to get far away from this.

Kirishima was standing guard outside the door, and Asami stops in the doorway and updates him. The two talk for a moment in a hushed tone that even Akihito can’t make out what is being said.

“Lock this room down and call Inspector Saito. And Tell Suoh to bring the car around. I am taking this one home.” Asami says at the tail end of the little exchange.

Kirishima is clearly a little shocked at hearing a body been discovered. But he knows what to do and how to handle it. For a moment, the secretary's eyes lock with the distressed photographer,slightly behind Asami and whose looking a bit dazed and pale.

The moment reminded Kirishima of a few weeks earlier when they had rescued the boy from that Baishe hideout. In the beginning, the secretary was not pleased that Asami risked himself to rescue the photographer. He saw the boy as nothing more than a nuisance and was privately shocked Asami would go that far to rescue someone that he seemed to hardly even know.

But admittedly, when he saw the Takaba boy bloody and hurt from the savage lashing he received. He couldn’t help but feel some mix between pity and guilty that the poor boy had even been involved in that mess.

And even though the photographer had proved to be an annoyance, yet again, some part of the secretary couldn’t help but take pity on him again.

He nods sharply to his boss, understanding the situation and letting him know he’ll sort it out. And he pulls out his phone to get Suoh to bring the car around.

Asami turns and pushes Akihito out of the room and down the hallway, holding his hand and tugging him along. Akihito lets himself be pushed along. His mind is racing with too many thoughts that he can’t even muster any type of protest. They go through another hallway and leave out a quiet side entrance that takes them outside.

The car hasn’t arrived yet on the street, but Asami heads to the sidewalk so they can get in as soon as it arrives.

“W-we have to…call the police…” Akihito stammers out, his voice a low murmur.

“It’s being handled,” Asami responds off-handily to Akihito as his focus turns to the approaching limo. He tugs Akihito along again, opens the door and pulls him in, and settles into the seat next to him.

The car pulls away from the curb. And for a moment, Akihito’s eerily silent, looking out the window on the other side, avoiding eye contact.

“I-I have to call her mom.” He finally says something. His voice sounds so tiny.

He doesn’t really have Ms. Tokashiki’s number, but he’s not thinking straight as he fumbles awkwardly for his phone in one of his pockets. Someone would have the number. Is all he can think. But before he can dig any further in his pockets, a hand clasps over his own, stopping his fidgeting.

Asami looks at him, eyes probing over the young man. “…Takaba. It’s okay. You don’t have to do that. Let the police handle that.”

They stare at each other for a moment, Asami searching Akihito’s face.

Akihito cracks.

Hot tears stream from his eyes, even as he tries to hold it together. His eyes are wide and wild, and his lips tremble as he speaks. It all comes gushing out.

“I-It’s my fault, Asami! It's my fault!” He starts—his voice cracks in a gut-wrenching way. “I-I bragged about my job to her! She wanted to help me a-a-and I let her! I knew it could be dangerous. It's my fault-“

“Takaba, Stop.” Asami grips either side of him, “You're going into shock. You need to calm down.”

Akihito shakes his head, not listening to him. “I told her some nonsense t-t-to _impress her,_ Asami! I did that! I asked her to be my source. And I didn’t _ONCE_ think about how it could be dangerous, and she’s DEAD now! Because….because of _me!_ ”

Asami cups his face, his thumb brushes the boy's pale cheek. “No. Thats not what happened.”

“She’d be alive right now if it wasn’t f-“

Asami’s lips silence him. He catches Akihito off guard mid-sentence and plunders his mouth. His tongue presses between Akihito's lips and tangles up with the others.

At first, Akihito’s paralyzed to do anything about it. He whines into the kiss, as he was initially shocked by the sudden development.

He gets a hold of himself and musters some attempt to escape. He knows this is wrong. He pushes against Asami’s wall of a chest and tries to move away. But Asami’s hold on him is well locked in. He has his arm wraps around Akihito’s back and pulls him deeper into the kiss, while his other hand cups his chin and keeps Akihito in place.

Maybe some initial part of Akihito is cursing at himself for getting into this situation like he knows how wrong it is for him to be falling right into Asami's clutches once again.

But some other deeper part of him can’t deny how good it tastes and how good it feels to be in his strong arms. Perhaps because of what’s happening, but Akihito couldn’t deny Asami had a way of soothing his nerves. Of numbing all other thoughts and forcing you to focus on the here and now. So he can’t muster much of a protest. Nor does he have the will to fight it off. He's wavering too much as it is.

And while Akihito still has so many questions and he wanted answers. Couldn’t all of that stress and worry just...wait a moment?

It's one of those _Aw Fuck it_ , kind of moments.

And maybe, just maybe. He just teensy bit wants to give in to it all.

But of course, the older man takes every inch Akihito gives him, and probably a bit more too. That little moment of capitulation is taken to the maximum extent.He’s on him even faster, then a blink of the eye and soon pushing them both down into the limo’s back seat.

Akihito’s hands which were once trying to push Asami away, suddenly cling to his suit instead. He’s likely wrinkling up his lapel while he pulls him in closer. He even opens up his mouth, inviting Asami to kiss him deeper.

Akihito’s t-shirt is pulled upward, and Asami’s tie gets whipped away, and buttons of a dress shirt are loosened, and hands wander all over each other in the ensuing moments. Asami kisses and bites down his neck, and his hands slip under Akihito’s shirt, so his thumbs can rub circles around pink rosebud nipples.

“Tch!” Akihito squeaks, and he knows his face feels warm, and his cheeks flush.

Tight pants grind against each other, and Akihito a little shocked to see and feel that Asami’s already just as hard as he is.

Akihito’s getting so lost in their full-blown makeup session in the back seats of the limo that he doesn’t even feel the limo coming to a halt. Until the next thing he knows, Asami’s yanking him up off the limo seat and out the open door of the limo.

He gets tugged out of the darkly lit limo into an annoyingly bright underground garage and led a few steps towards an elevator.

Akihito’s releasing he’s probably stepping out of the limo disheveled as heck. His t-shirt falling down half-hazardly after being yanked upward. He probably has swollen lips and messy blond hair. His eyes are swollen too from the crying and he feels lightheaded and weak. When he looked over to Asami, the man was annoyingly immaculate still after their heated make-out session.

Akihito spins his head around, not recognizing where they were. “Wher-“ Akihito’s about to ask a very basic question. Where are they, and where are they going? But he’s sailed into the nearby elevator, and he’s practically shoved against the wall and back into another kiss to silence him before he asks too many questions.

Asami’s clearly in a hurry to get somewhere. Usually, there was a moment of talk or bantering between them, or maybe Asami says something thats terribly cheesy. But there's none of that today… in fact, it feels more rushed than the other times.

It was like Asami was giving off a faint bit of impatience or even annoyance. Perhaps he was still annoyed at that accusation.

The doors open again, and he gets grabbed again by the hand and dragged out into a hallway. He was really letting himself be dragged around a lot today, he notes on.

But this area looks more recognizable to Akihito. He’d seen it on his way out when he left Asami’s apartment a few weeks back.

Akihito thinks back to a few weeks ago. He had thought the apartment Asami had taken him after the kidnapping was only a temporary safe house. He had only surmised that since the place was minimalistic decorated, and there was nothing in the way of food stored. But Asami was taking him here a second time? Was this actually where Asami lived?

Before he has too much time to process that, the doors open with ease, and Asami drags him into the genkan, and there's a pause as they stand in the sunken level. They look at each other as if testing each other to see what comes next.

Asami moves first. He takes off his shoes and looks back at Akihito.

It’s the oddest little moment. Asami doesn’t give a fuck about the condition of his floors. He could easily pick Akihito up and drag him down the hallway to the bedroom to finish what he started. And honestly, the last thing anyone would be thinking about was their shoes or scuffed-up floors.

But he wants Akihito to take off his shoes. _Willingly._ Take off your shoes and step in through the threshold together.

A moment of civility perhaps, in between all the take, take, take...

Akihito takes off his shoes sheepishly, without a word. Because some part of him knows that all civility might be thrown out the window if he argues at this point.

Asami even looks slightly pleased with the development and grabs his hand again before pushing him down the hallway towards the master bedroom.

Akihito lets himself be dragged along. He knows he must really not be himself right now.

* * *

“Ahh. Ah.” Akihito shudders.

He’s laid out on his side, mostly exposed. His pants had been taken off first. But his print t-shirt he was wearing was still on his body, although it's been lifted up to expose his chest. Asami had even used the t-shirt as a little gag. He stuffed his mouth with it so that the shirt would hold up, and he silences some of the boy's moans. Akihito was drooling all over it now as he whines.

Asami’s mostly been equally stripped. He’s still in his boxers, though, which Akihito can’t help but find annoyingly unfair. But at least the man's toned chest is exposed. One of Akihito’s legs is draped over Asami’s shoulder, and he has Akihito partially lifted off the bed, although it's lopsided as he’s still on his side.

But from this rather skewed side angle, Asami had the right kind of access. Three thick fingers stuffed, all the way to the knuckle, right into Akihito’s tight puckered hole. The stretch was burning. His breath hitched unevenly, he rolls his head back.

The mortifying position was thorny as it was, but it felt like Asami was just torturously dragging out this part of the process. Not going too fast, nor too slow while he pushed into the boy.

Akihito’s cock felt so tight and unbearable. He was practically mewling. It was obvious Asami was doing it on purpose just to watch Akihito squirm.

“E-Enough already…” Akihito panted out breathlessly.

The smirk Asami gave in response was just plain wicked. “Enough of what?”

Akihito got it. This wasn’t even about watching Akihito squirm. He wanted Akihito to _say it_. Akihito narrowed his eyes, slightly annoyed. “Just. hmpf.” Akihito flushed, and he looked away from the searing look Asami was no doubt giving him. But Akihito had already resigned himself to it. “Put it in, you dummy.”

Asami’s smirk widens, and he settles Akihito back down on the bed, “On your stomach,” he orders. While he helps to takes off the t-shirt and tosses it over the bed.

Akihito groans internally and makes a face. But he flips over reluctantly. He scoops up a nearby pillow to stuff his face into and raises his lower half by sitting on his knees.

God, when had he gotten so comfortable exposing himself to Asami like this?

“If I am going to do this, Takaba…” Asami's hands cups Akihito’s ass and spreads his cheeks apart, “You better stay awake…”

A chill went up Akihito’s spine, and he couldn’t tell how much of a threat that was.

Asami took both sides of his hips in hand and straightened Akihito out until he was lined up with his cock. He presses the tip in, and Akihito bites his lower lip at the sudden stretch, expecting Asami to enter him slow and steady.

Wrong again. Why, oh why, would he ever think that? Asami pulls Akihito’s hips back to fully impale himself in one forceful but smooth thrust.

Akihito yelps, eyes widen. The air feels like it's sucked from his lungs at the sudden and deep penetration.

Asami doesn’t give him any time to adjust, but he’s delectably slow and drawing out each thrust. Pulling almost all the way out except for his tip and then thrusting back in, deeper than before.

Akihito mewls, “Ahh! Asami -it's ah it's too deep- mff.”

“But you take it so well,” Asami’s suddenly right behind him. The confidence in his voice is so very annoying to Akihito. Asami's lips hovering over Akihito’s ears as he bends down, still keeping up his pace.

His teeth bit down on a feverishly warm patch of Akihito’s shoulder, leaving a teeth mark, and then he nibbles and sucks on his neck. His teeth scraping against the boy's sensitive skin, causing him to shiver.

He keeps his pace steady but unrelenting until Akihito’s relaxed a bit more until he was slowly losing himself to it. Until his insides are soft and wet and used to the intrusion. When pleasure begins to build in momentum with every thrust of his hips, tightening the pressure building in Akihito’s cock even more.

It's then that Asami picks up the pace. Asami sits back up straight. One of Asami’s hands holds on to Akihito’s hip to steer them into every thrust. At the same time, his other hand pushes Akihito down into the mattress.

“Mhhaaahhhh- Nah. No.” Akihito gripes as he’s pressed deeper into the mattress.

The position ensures that his hips are angled, and his back is arched perfectly. He can take Asami deeper, while Asami has better unrestrictive access.

Asami is ruthlessly and unrelenting with the constant pressure he builds up. When he reaches a new fever pitch, he picks up both of Akihito’s wrists. Picking him upwards and arching his back in a new way. While pulling on his wrist, Asami forces him back into each thrust.

“Ah! Haaaa!”

He plows into him deeper and more savagely. Skin slaps on skin obscenely. And Akihito’s wet puckered hole makes lewd-sounding squelches and wet sounds. Asami’s, too, is more on point with each thrust, hitting its mark- a tiny ball of nerves inside Akihito every time until he sees stars.

Akihito sounds so needy and desperate, “I’m - I’m.”

Asami releases one of his wrists and reaches under to grasp Akihito’s leaking cock, and he fists it hard in time with his thrusting. Akihito moans howlingly, low and long before he’s even able to finish that sentence.

His whole body shudders, his cum shots out like ribbons falling to the mattress and onto his own chest. His vision gets shaky, and he slumps a bit downward.

Asami’s hand moves away from Akihito’s cock, and goes back on his hips, while the hard thrusting goes on for a moment longer. His overly sensitive hole gets pounded on for another moment until Asami’s hips buckle one last time.

“Nhhh,” Asami grunts low, and his jaw clutches when he unloads his own release.

He lets Akihito drop bonelessly onto the bed as the boy regains some senses. Asami slumps on top of him, careful not to get his full weight on the boy, but he kisses him from behind and nibbles gently on his neck while he gets his own breath back.

His hand turns Akihito’s chin towards him, and he licks away some tears that had stung in his eyes. “Stay awake,” Asami murmurs a reminder, and he captures the boy's lips again in a sideways kiss. Using a bit of tongue to coax him back awake. He bites on his bottom lip and pulls away, and then sits up over him.

Asami turns him around and slumps into his neckline. Kissing and nibbling some more. Scrapping his teeth across and biting on his ear lobe.

Asami sits up over him to looks down on him. Akihito looks like he’s in a dazy. Face flushed and lovely, but eyes struggling to stay open.

He had stayed awake. A fact which pleases Asami immensely. 

_ Not this _ time. He reminds himself of the other times where the boy completely collapsed after their coupling, and Asami was left still hard and more than slightly annoyed at being left in the lurch. But now. It was payback time, and doubly so, since that accusation from early can't help but ring in his mind- he'll be properly punished for that.

“…Takaba…Takaba…” Asami goes back down to kiss and bit and tease a bit more. He lowers down to his nipples and gives them a bit of a bite.

“…What..” Akihito sounds depleted.

“Hold on to me, Takaba.”

“…For what-“ And before he can finish that thought or questions, it occurs to Akihito that they are still inexplicable linked down there…and Asami’s still hard. In fact, it feels like he’s gotten bigger. His eye’s almost pop out there socket. “No, wait!”

He misses the gleam in Asami’s eyes when the thrusting begins again. Akihito instinctively hooks his arms around Asami's neck and clings to him.

Asami’s already pushed his legs back, hooking them under the thighs and pushing it upward for a proper stretch.

“No. No. Wait, Asami- You can’t!” Akihito pleas, desperate. His hole is already so overly sensitive, and his body is giving way to trembles.

“Just relax,” Asami tells him calmly.

“I’m- I’m already—” Akihito rolls his head back, and he whimpers brokenly. Tears sting in his eyes as he can't hold it together.

“Take what I give you.”

But even as it hurts, and it shakes him to his very core. It’s simultaneously bringing him into another level of ecstasy- like he’s floating on cloud 9, and he’s totally lost and completely at Asami’s total mercy and control.And even though it hurts, he realizes how much Asami must be holding back. As he’s once again starting off with that rather gentle but unwavering pace.

Asami sits up a bit more and wraps Akihito’s legs around his waist, and he thrust past the oversensitivity and the initial oppressive sensation.

“Ha-ahh,” Akihito tries to bite down on his lips, to quell himself. But the intense heat is already rising in his pelvis.

He keeps thrusting into him at that same steady pace until Akihito’s brimming for more until he’s needy, and he moves his own hips seeking more of it.

“There it is,” Asami grins. It’s exactly as he anticipated.

He suddenly hooks Akihito under the knee and slams him back down on the bed, taking over control. He pounds harder and with more force, so much harder Akihito’s tight cock starts to rock in front of him from the pressure. Akihito's breath hitches and turns into pants as he tries to follow Asami thrust for thrust.

“Ah-Ah! Asami! Ah! Asami!” Akihito close, and he trembles, and his arms try to reach for something.

Asami doesn’t let up, but he bends down to let the boy hook his arms around his neck while he rocks them home. Akihito careens fast. His insides clutch up on Asami’s hard member when he cums, painting both their chest white. A pained but satisfied moan escapes Akihito’s lips. And the sudden delicious tightness of his soft insides draws out Asami’s own release.

They both slump into the mattress. Finding their breath and still holding on to each other.

“Are you awake, still?” Asami tries after 30 seconds.

Akihito doesn’t like that question, and he immediately groans. “Unfortunately…”

Asami lifts his head up. “Good cause I am not done yet.” He flashes a toothy grin.

“What do you _mean_?!” Akihito sounds dejected.

“I mean, it’s still early…” Asami sits up, and again Akihito’s horrifyingly reminded that they were still connected.


End file.
